


You crack me up

by falsepremise



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Comedy, Crack, Discord: O Lord Heal This Server, Fluff and Crack, Humor, M/M, Multi, OLHTS made me do it, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsepremise/pseuds/falsepremise
Summary: Responses to crack prompts. Will always try for funny. Some will also get smutty in various degrees.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 144
Kudos: 137
Collections: The Not-Very-Nice and Anatomically-Inaccurate Prophecies of OLHTS





	1. Right foot on yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: board games

‘You have a natural advantage,’ Aziraphale said with a pout, ‘it isn’t fair.’

‘Advantage?’ Crowley repeated.

‘You were a snake, Crowley!’ 

Crowley snorted, ‘well, you said I could pick any board game I liked,’ Crowley drawled, ‘course ‘m gonna pick one I could win, aren’t I?’

Aziraphale tutted, ‘it isn’t even really a board game. Where’s the board?’

‘You’re on it! You’re on it right now!’ Crowley answered, head nodding downwards to the brightly coloured spots under them both. 

‘Well, this isn’t at all the dignified evening I had in mind,’ Aziraphale said as primly as he could muster from his current position.

‘Noted. Now spin.’

Aziraphale sighed a deep, long-suffering sigh. He reached out gingerly with his right hand and flicked the spinner. It whirled and whirled. When it stopped Aziraphale tutted in disapproval. ‘You’re cheating. You’ve done something to the spinner, haven’t you?’

Crowley made a little incomprehensible noise of outrage, ‘I’m very deeply, very personally offended by that, angel.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Aziraphale countered, ‘you’re just annoyed that I’ve figured it out.’

Crowley made another little incomprehensible noise. ‘Right foot on yellow, angel.’

Aziraphale sighed again, ‘fine.’ He very slowly, very carefully moved his right foot onto a yellow circle. He was now quite spread-eagled, quite contorted, and—this was the real giveaway—his arse was right in Crowley’s face. Definitely cheating. 

‘Well, well, that’s an interesting position you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it?’ Crowley said with a little grin, ‘quite the view I’ve got from here too.’

‘Do shut up, dear,’ Aziraphale puffed out. It was taking a lot of effort just to remain in position. Not the dignified evening he’d envisioned at all. 

Crowley chuckled. He reached over to the spinner and flicked the little arrow. ‘Oh! Left hand on angel’s left arsecheek. Well, if I must.’

‘It doesn’t say that!’ Aziraphale spluttered, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. 

‘Have a look,’ Crowley said.

With difficulty Aziraphale moved his head just enough to see the spinner. It was, indeed, pointing to angel’s left arsecheek. ‘I knew you’d done something to the spinner.’

‘Gotta obey the spinner,’ Crowley said, planting his hand firmly on Aziraphale’s arse and giving it a squeeze.

Aziraphale swallowed a little moan. ‘You’ve never obeyed anyone or anything. Why start now?’ he puffed out.

‘Hm. I like the spinner,’ Crowley growled, giving Aziraphale another squeeze.

Right. Well. If that was the game. Aziraphale clicked his fingers. 

‘What did you do?’ Crowley asked nervously.

‘This is a game for two isn’t it?’ Aziraphale answered, ‘I’ve made a few adjustments of my own,’ Aziraphale reached across and spun. The little yellow arrow whirled, split into three and pointed at three different, newly created options simultaneously, ‘well, well… it seems I have multiple instructions. Mouth on demon mouth, left hand on demon arse, and right hand on demon cock…I suppose I have to obey the spinner.’

‘You can’t have multiple…’ Crowley began, his outrage cut off with a little whine as Aziraphale—making use of all of his ability to wink at the laws of physics and convince them to leave him alone for a little while— did exactly as the spinner asked him to. 

Aziraphale started by twisting himself around and planting his mouth on his demon’s mouth, kissing Crowley hard. Next, he slipped one hand over the top to reach Crowley’s arse, running tender fingers down the crack to his perineum and back. The other hand he slipped between his own legs, reaching to Crowley’s crotch. Already half-hard. Of course. Further proof of a demonic scheme. Aziraphale palmed Crowley’s erection, quickly bringing it to full and glorious life. Crowley groaned loudly and squeezed Aziraphale’s arse, massaging the flesh under his hand. Aziraphale slipped his tongue into Crowley’s mouth and moaned. 

‘Oh, angel,’ Crowley gasped between kisses, ‘that’s…’ his left leg wobbled and he fell. As Crowley crashed down on the mat, Aziraphale fell on top of him—once again giving physics a little wink and a nod— unwilling to break any of his points of contact.

Aziraphale grinned from his position on top of Crowley, ‘I won.’

‘Yesss you did, now don’t ssstop,’ Crowley answered, moaning into Aziraphale’s mouth.

‘Wily old serpent,’ Aziraphale said fondly. So this had been his scheme all along.


	2. Transcendentally Bored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: boredom. Obviously, given in the wake of the lockdown video.

He had enjoyed it at first. Been a bit thrilled by the possibility, actually. Hell had never exactly allowed a lot of free time and the last, what, eleven years? Yeah, somethin’ like that. The last eleven years had been ridiculously busy. Ever since Hastur has held out that cursed basket, that’s when it had begun. Delivering the baby—not actually delivering, delivering jus’ oh, you know— then there was tempting Aziraphale into doing the right thing. Amazing how hard it could be to tempt an angel into doing the right thing. Then he’d had to literally raise the Antichrist, then they’d realised that he hadn’t raised the Antichrist at all. He’d had to manage Aziraphale throughout, find the Antichrist, get rejected multiple times by Aziraphale, find out that Aziraphale was dead, find out Aziraphale was alive, save the world together and finally save themselves. And after all of that, well, they’d been catapulted into the sweet bliss of a whirl-wind romance.

Well, not quite whirl-wind. It was, after all, six thousand years in the making. And Aziraphale, being Aziraphale, was taking things slowly. Still, they’d been spending a lot of time together. Going on dates that they actually called dates, holding hands, cuddling up together on the couch, kissing… They’d even started to engage in a little heavy petting…Heavy petting! 

Anyway, the point being—the _point_ being—a little time to himself? With nothing much to do? Fan-fucking-tastic. So when Aziraphale had pedantically interpreted the rules as meaning that each of them had to spend lock down at their own respective places, Crowley hadn’t felt hurt at all. Not hurt. Not disappointed. Not frustrated. Oh, no. Not one bit. He was fucking thrilled.

Crowley had started his blissful free time with a nice, lazy, week-long nap. And then he’d had a really good wank. He’d gone at it with both sets of humanly equipment. Got out all of his sex toys and everything. It was just the thing. Got out all the tension that’d been building with all of that kissing and cuddling and holding hands and heavy-petting. He replayed his sexual fantasy greatest hits and added a few newbies, drawn from their early relationship. Oh, the memory of Aziraphale nearly completely losing control and creaming his pants during one particular heavy petting episode—the knowledge that in that moment _Crowley_ had had to be the one to keep them within the little rules Aziraphale was always setting for them— _that_ could keep him going for days. And it did.

After the wank, Crowley turned his attention to his plants. Crowley began with a full inspection. He re-potted a few who’d outgrown their pots, fertilized the lot of them, and spent a full day browsing online plant shops, ordering a few specific species to be delivered. Right. Plants done.

With all of that out of the way, Crowley was really starting to relax. So it was time for a true laze. Like, absolute sloth. He watched simply glorious amounts of television—Golden Girls, and Cheers, and The Good Place and all of the Bond movies and then just whatever the fuck happened to be on-- listened to his full music collection twice, and lazed about on every piece of furniture including the floor—was the floor a piece of furniture? Oh well, he’d lazed on it—and at that point, _at that point_ , he ran out of things to do. At that point, he stopped feeling relaxed and started to feel a bit bored. And just a bit…just a little bit something else. Why hadn’t Aziraphale called yet? Shoulda called by now, surely? Crowley thought about calling him but, no, he had decided to let the angel lead. Best thing. Definitely best thing. And so Crowley’d just have to come up with some other way to amuse himself.

A day later, Crowley had practiced every single one of his scariest expressions and manifestations in front of the mirror. Fangs. Glowing eyes. Shark-like teeth. Two heads. Snakes for hair. He counted it as a win when he managed to scare himself. Still got it.

Two days later, Crowley decided that anyone he could see on the streets was flouting the rules and hence fair game. Two glorious pranks pranks later he realised they were probably all essential workers or somethin’ and he was being a dick. So that was that.

Three days later, Crowley had shrunk to three inches tall and single-handedly trekked from his lounge to his indoor garden and back.

Four days later, he re-constructed a working model of the Milky Way galaxy and installed it on his ceiling before deciding he didn’t like it after all and destroyed it in a cathartic blaze.

Five days later, he had miracled a sheet with a bag of apples inside to fly around pretending to be Aziraphale. Well, the sheet didn’t pretend. Crowley pretended. Did the voice and everything. Crowley could do a decent impression of Aziraphale if he did say so himself. The fact that they’d survived proved that, huh?

‘Oh Crowley,’ Crowley made the hovering sheet say, ‘I’m stuck in the Bastille, come and save me you naughty demon.’ Crowley cackled. Aziraphale would have hated this. In fact, he’d have gotten _that look_ on his face, the one where his eyes narrowed and his forehead creased and Crowley remembered that Aziraphale could smite. Whatever. Aziraphale’s opinion of it hardly mattered, Crowley had reasoned to himself. Aziraphale _wasn’t here_. So Crowley had focussed on his pretend Aziraphale and made himself laugh so hard he collapsed onto the floor holding his sides. Then, things may have gotten a little, well… Circumstances had required a second session of wanking, let’s put it like that.

Six days later, he was still finishing up the second session of wanking. But seven days later he was well and truly, absolutely, totally bored. Transcendentally bored. So bored he was weeping. You know, of boredom.

And then, and _then_ , at that very point, Aziraphale rang.


	3. Wibbly Wobbly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Misadventures with technology

Crowley had always been a technology enthusiast. So, naturally, when humans invented faster-than-light-speed travel in the year 3125 Crowley was thrilled. Aziraphale, on the other hand, responded the same way that he’d responded when he’d seen the first wheel, or heard Ada Lovelace talk about Babbage’s difference engine, or tried virtual reality: a grimace of confusion on his face and a knot of anxiety in his stomach. But there was no getting around it. No dimming Crowley’s enthusiasm and no question of them being apart. And so it transpired that the very first spaceship to make a faster-than-light-speed voyage had a very excited demon and a rather nervous angel aboard. 

‘Angel!’ Crowley called out from the window, ‘you’ve gotta see this!’ 

Angel sighed and turned away from the battered tartan suitcase from which he was steadily unpacking far more books than should ever have fit in it. He approached the window and his stomach twisted in nausea as he caught sight of the bizarre twisting light rushing past. According to the digital brochure Crowley had read aloud to Aziraphale earlier, it was a perfectly normal visual effect of this mode of travel. Aziraphale has seen stranger things in his long life, of course, but it still seemed disorientatingly peculiar to be making such a journey physically on a spaceship surrounded by humans. 

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Crowley sighed in awe.

‘Hm,’ Aziraphale chewed at his bottom lip, ‘It is certainly a most startling view. I expect I’ll get used to it.’

Crowley bounced up on the soles of his feet and grinned, ‘Can’t believe they’re really doing it. Conquering the Heavens! Mastering space and time!’ He winked at Aziraphale and said warmly, ‘wonderful, clever humans.’

Aziraphale instantly softened. Crowley was so proud. As proud as any parent would be and Aziraphale was glad, so glad, that he’d agreed to the trip.

‘m gonna check out the transportation room,’ Crowley said, buzzing with excitement, ‘You can actually see the wrap engine and everything. Wanna come?’

Aziraphale sighed, ‘Maybe later. I’d like to get myself settled in here, dear boy.’

‘Alright, angel,’ Crowley called out as he left the room, ‘be back for dinner, yeah?’

‘Mind how to go!’ Aziraphale called out, returning to his suitcase. But he’d barely lifted the next pile of books out when Crowley ran back in.

‘Forget something?’ Aziraphale asked, turning to the door. 

Crowley looked around the cabin with a haunted expression that cut deep into Aziraphale’s bones.

‘Dear one?’ Aziraphale whispered, worry creasing his forehead.

Crowley looked at the pile of books and then back to Aziraphale, ‘This is the first for you, right? Gotta be. Look, angel, this is important. When you see me, tell me that I can’t cancel it out with another miracle. It’ll only make it worse.’ 

‘When I see you? I can see you now, Crowley,’ Aziraphale moaned.

‘Just, just trust me. See you for dinner. Hopefully,’ Crowley dashed back out of the room.

Aziraphale sighed. What was he up to? Usually his pranks weren’t quite so obtuse. Aziraphale reached into his tartan suitcase and pulled out the final pile of books. Just as he put them neatly onto the shelves, Crowley sauntered through the door.

‘Dear boy, what are you up to?’ Aziraphale tutted without even turning around, ‘I can’t figure out this prank at all. I thought you were excited about seeing the engine.’

‘Prank?’ Crowley snorted, ‘there’s no prank angel. Unless…oh!’ Crowley’s eyes widened the gold bled out to the edges as he looked around the room, taking it all in. ‘Fuck! But that’s why. Oh, no, the humans!’ he screamed as he ran back out. 

‘Wait! Crowley!’ Aziraphale called moving quickly after him, ‘don’t fix it with another miracle!’

‘Fix it with another miracle!’ Crowley replied, still running, ‘got it!’

‘No I said…’ Aziraphale sighed as Crowley disappeared out of sight, ‘most ridiculous prank yet,’ he murmured to himself, ‘what even is the point?’ 

Aziraphale decided to ignore his partner’s antics in favour of a good book. He curled up on the chair with Great Expectations and was soon lost in the words. Well, not entirely. He was pulled back to reality several times by the jolting of the ship and then by a horrible crunching noise—these modern contraptions, honestly! Did no one think of noise?—and at one point a heated argument in the corridor. 

Pip had just found out the true identity of his benefactor when Crowley ran back in, groaned loudly, shouted, ‘sod it!’ And ran back out again.

Aziraphale sighed in frustration and returned to his book. When he’d finished the novel he began to wonder where Crowley was. Surely, it was dinner time? He did promise. And Aziraphale was hungry. He pouted to himself. 

Just when Aziraphale was starting to worry, Crowley stumbled in and collapsed on the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes, ‘that was quite a week. Alright then, angel?’

‘Quite a week?’ Aziraphale said with a sigh, ‘this is a very elaborate prank, dear. I’m not sure I understand it.’

‘No prank. Just don’t perform a time-related miracle near the wrap engine. Makes time go a bit wibbly wobbly. And if you do, _if you do_ , don’t try to fix it with another miracle. That was a damn stupid idea of yours, angel,’ Crowley lifted his head and smiled, his golden eyes glimmering with affection, ‘but I made it back for dinner.’

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed as he tried to read his husband’s expression. Eventually he shook his head and gave up, ‘yes, I suppose you did.’


	4. Tantrums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The Dowlings

‘ _No_ ,’ Crowley said firmly, ‘we are going outside _now.’_

Warlock looked back up to his nanny, his eyes meeting Crowley’s own and his cute little face twisting into a sneer. He stomped his right foot twice, opened his little red rosy lips and screamed a scream that would ring out in even the very depths of Hell, ‘ I _don’t_ wanna!’

Crowley could feel is own jaw tighten. It was an impressive performance. He had to give it to him. Normally he’d be proud. In fact, sod it all, he still kinda was. But right now, Crowley was in the grip of a familiar need both despised and unyielding, and the little Antichrist (damn him) was standing in the way of its fulfilment.

Crowley cleared his throat and spoke with the kind of warm but stern voice he imagined a nanny would use in this situation, ‘Warlock, darling, you need some fresh air in the afternoon.’

‘No! I! Don’t!’ Warlock yelled, stamping his foot in time with every word.

Crowley took a deep breath. Warlock was worse than Hastur when he was in this state. Absolutely unmanageable. As Warlock began to tear around the room howling like a banshee, Crowley’s gaze drifted out the window to where Aziraphale was standing pretending to prune the roses. Even in his ridiculous Brother Francis get up he was as perfect as ever and Crowley’s skin crawled with need. Aziraphale’s voice, his smile, an accidental touch… as much as Crowley hated it he needed Aziraphale and he would do anything, absolutely anything for… wait. _Wait._

Crowley snorted in amusement. What a terrible demon he was. He was going about this all the wrong way. He turned back to the little boy now in full monster mode running wildly about the room, ‘Warlock, my dear, your favourite ice cream is chocolate, isn’t it?’


	5. Rainbow Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: travel
> 
> I was inspired to write a fix-it of a scene in the book: the scene where Aziraphale is trying to find a receptive body close enough to Tadfield and he ends up in Australia.

The moon came up over the Kookamundi Hills. It was very bright tonight.

John Lingiari sat in the valley beneath the hills. It was a sacred place, formed by the slithering movements of Nyalgod as Lingiari’s mob called him— the great rainbow serpent—in the Dreamtime. John knew the story well. It had been passed down generation after generation, a precious inheritance, and now the story belonged to John. 

John was connecting to country, renewing his spiritual connection to the land. John knew who he was, he knew where he belonged and that knowledge anchored him. 

John turned the goanna roasting on the hot coals of campfire in front of him —nothing like a bit of bush tucker—and blinked. Looked around wonderingly.

“Excuse me, dear boy, " he said to himself, out loud, in precise, enunciated tones. "But have you any idea where I am?"

"Who said that?" John said with a start.

His own mouth opened again and said in the same precise British accent, "I did."

John scratched, thoughtfully. "You taking the piss?”

Again, his own mouth answered, “Certainly not, dear fellow. I’d just like to know where I am?” 

“You’re standing on Bininj land,” John answered, “Kunwinjku nation, in fact. That’s my mob.”

“Right. Very good. Very good. And where’s that then?”

John snorted. Typical. Bloody Pom. He was about to say something caustic—something along the lines of if you’re gonna steal it you should know who it belongs to first—when the precise British voice seized his throat again, “I don’t mean to be rude. But I do need your help.”

John immediately softened, “alright, I get that. Well, let’s have a yarn about it and figure it out. Starting with this: who are you, mate? Where do you fit?”

“Fit?”

“Whose your mob? Your family, like? The people you belong to?”

“Ah,” the British voice answered, wobbling a little with sadness, “I don’t really know anymore I’m afraid.”

“Right,’ John said. He worried at his lower lip, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his own leg and then he smiled as it all became quite clear to him. “That’s alright. I know. You aren’t just using my voicebox, you know, you are using my brain. I can see who you are because I can see him, in my mind. Would recognise him anywhere. You’re Ngalyod’s lover.”

“Oh! I think you must be mistaken…”

“He has many names. Maybe you know another. The rainbow serpent?”

“Serpent? Ah. Yes. Well, we are friends,” the British voice said with a degree of polite discomfort.

John snorted, “You forget you are borrowing my brain,” he tapped the side of his head, “I can see it, clear as anything. The serpent wants to root you and you, you want to root him too.”

“Excuse me?” 

“He wants to give it to you, mate,” John said with a chuckle. 

“Oh, Good Lord. I’m in Australia, aren’t I?”

“Bloody oath you are.”

“Oh, dear. I’m quite far from where I’m meant to be I’m afraid,” the precise voice spoke again through John, wavering with emotion. 

“Exactly. You’re meant to be with the serpent. He’s your mob. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” John replied.

“I…yes. Perhaps you are right. Yes, yes, you are right. Thank-you. Thank-you, dear fellow.”

"No worries,” said John. He sat still for awhile waiting just in case but there was no reply. Eventually, he shrugged and went back to cooking his bush tucker and putting up his tent for the night. That’ll be a story for the grandkids: meeting the rainbow serpent’s wife. 

Aziraphale moved on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kookamundi Hills don't actually exist. I've imagined them in the Northern Territory.
> 
> John is named after Vincent Lingiari who led a walk-off at a cattle station that resulted in the first return of Aboriginal land to Aboriginal people. 
> 
> The rainbow serpent is a deity common to many Australian Aboriginal peoples with many names and varying myths.
> 
> Australian Aboriginal culture and mythos is borrowed respectfully with the intent of doing it greater justice than canon did.


	6. To proudly go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pride. 
> 
> This one is to celebrate pride month.

Crowley sauntered into the Bookshop confidently, a bag of carefully selected goodies in hand. It was time to take their little post-Armageddon fumbling up a notch and this month was the month to do it.

Crowley found Aziraphale occupied with his books. But that wasn’t unusual. Especially when Crowley showed up unannounced.

‘Do come in, dear,’ Aziraphale called out from within the depths of his bookshelves, ‘I won’t be a minute.’

Crowley slouched on the couch, sitting his little bag of specially purchased items in the middle of the coffee table, next to the obligatory pile of books. He stretched, made himself comfortable and waited.

Aziraphale soon appeared, a few more books in hand which he carefully placed on top of the pile. He smiled shyly and planted a little chaste kiss on Crowley’s lips, ‘How are you then, dear?’

Crowley shrugged, ‘Alright.’

‘Oh, and what’s this?’ Aziraphale asked, looking at the bag, eyes lighting up with the possibility of food.

Crowley snorted, ‘Not the kind of goodies you think it is. I’ve been visiting your neighbours.’

‘Oh?’ Aziraphale said, taking a seat next to Crowley.

‘Do you know what month it is?’ Crowley asked, slipping his sunglasses off and putting them in his pocket.

‘Of course I do,’ Aziraphale replied, ‘its June.’

‘Ah. But what do we celebrate in June?’

‘Oh, you mean Pride month,’ Aziraphale beamed. He wiggled a little with excitement, ‘I’ve already put my rainbow flag up. I’m surprised you didn’t see it on the way in.’

Crowley looked back towards the Bookshop’s entrance. There was, indeed, a rainbow flag on proud display in the window. ‘Very nice,’ Crowley drawled, ‘But this year I was thinking, given our changed circumstances, we could mark the occasion.’

Aziraphale frowned in confusion, ‘we always do. I have a great number of miracles to perform again this year, I assure you. And I imagine you’ll take up your usual post circling all the events and playing pranks on any troublemakers who turn up intent on spoiling things.’

Crowley laughed as memories of previous years came back, ‘Yeah, all that too. But I mean, we should mark the occasion ourselves, angel, in a more…’ Crowley’s voice deepened and he leaned forward towards Aziraphale, his amber eyes burning with need, ‘in a more _personal_ way.’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped, eyes widening, ‘Oh, well I do have a little tradition,’ he said proudly tapping on his pile of books, ‘I read the complete works of Oscar Wilde. You’d be very welcome to join me.’

‘How thrilling,’ Crowley said mockingly.

‘Indeed,’ Aziraphale beamed, oblivious to Crowley’s tone, ‘I confess I can’t wait to begin. I have them all right here. I was just about to start reading when you showed up.’

Aziraphale sighed, still staring at the pile of books longingly.

‘I have a few books in here for you, angel,’ Crowley said trying to steer the conversation back to where he wanted it to go.

‘You do?’ Aziraphale enthused, leaning forward to try to take a peek in the bag, still lying on the coffee table.

Crowley nodded, ‘books and other accessories.’

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed as he tried harder to peek inside the bag, ‘Accessories?’

‘Accessories. See, I figure we should have our own _personal_ celebration of pride by doing a whole lot to be proud of,’ Crowley declared meaningfully.

Aziraphale’s forehead knitted up in a little frown of confusion. He chewed at his bottom lip, trying to figure it out.

When Crowley could see that he wasn’t going to get it he gave another hint, ‘We can do all the things the humans out there are celebrating being so proud of doing…and I do mean _all_ the things.’

Aziraphale looked towards the bookshop door as if that might hold the answer. The humans out there? Things they are proud of doing? When no answer came he turned back to Crowley, still frowning.

Crowley sighed, ‘m saying we should have a lot of sex.’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped, ‘I see, quite. The sort that…’ his voice trailed off as he looked back towards the bookshop door.

‘Yes,’ Crowley said taking a book out of the bag, flicking to a particular dog eared page and shoving a detailed illustration of scissoring under Aziraphale’s nose, ‘like that, we haven’t tried that.’

Aziraphale tutted in disapproval of the dog eared state of the page, but then his attention was captured by the illustration. His cheeks immediately flushed as he considered the possibilities of performing that act with Crowley, ‘oh my.’

‘Or this,’ Crowley flicked to another dog eared page. This page’s detailed illustration depicted one man rimming another, ‘we haven’t tried this.’

Aziraphale licked his lips and swallowed hard, ‘No. We, we haven’t. I can certainly see how that would be…’ he cleared his throat, ‘so we spend the month sampling all the…’ his voice trailed off for a moment as he found words he was comfortable with, ‘ _flavours_ of the rainbow, is that what you are suggesting?’

Crowley nodded, his heart thumping in his chest as he was hit with a sudden rush of nerves, ‘Hm. What’d ya think?’

Aziraphale swallowed hard and smiled, ‘I think it sounds like a marvellous idea. I will take great pleasure in sampling all the delights to be had with you, my dear, I’m quite sure.’

‘Right, course,’ Crowley grinned, relieved. He threw the book onto the coffee table, ‘well, how d’ya want to start? One of those two? Or something else?’

Aziraphale’s gaze slipped back to the pile of books. It had been a tradition of his for such a long time now. He always started June by re-reading the complete works of Oscar Wilde. Crowley’s gaze followed. Aziraphale frowned. Crowley frowned. The wheels turned in Aziraphale’s head, searching for an answer. Finally, he smiled.

‘I think, I think, dear, it might be appropriate if I might start out the month identifying as asexual,’ Aziraphale said picking up the first book off the pile.

‘Some asexuals have sex,’ Crowley quickly retorted with a pout, knowing it was pointless.

‘Some do, yes,’ Aziraphale said with a little grin, opening The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Crowley groaned dramatically, ‘bloody Wilde!’ He leapt up off the couch and began to pace up and down, arms flying about making all kinds of strange noises, ‘I can’t believe you are going to…of all the stupid…bloody Wilde!’

Aziraphale chuckled, but kept his eyes on his book. Eventually, Crowley sighed in defeat. He walked over to Aziraphale and whispered, ‘m gonna come back when you’ve finished the books, then, yeah?’

‘Please,’ Aziraphale said, a little glint in his eye, ‘I’ll be expecting you. We’ll have much to do.’

Crowley smiled in spite of himself.


	7. Aziraphale had his reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: accidental discorporation

**A bit east of Eden 4004BC**

‘Aziraphale!’ Crowley called out as he strode over, pushing green foliage out of the way, ‘watcha doing here then?’

‘Crawley,’ Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he quickly swallowed wiping his mouth, eyes darting around guiltily.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, ‘you were doing something.’

Aziraphale sighed, a little worried crease in his forehead and his ears a bit pink, ‘if you _must_ know, I was eating.’

‘Eating?’ Crowley asked eyebrows raised, ‘like the humans?’

‘Yes, if you must know,’ Aziraphale replied with a tut, ‘the berries in this grove are particularly scrumptious. I noticed Eve eating them yesterday.’

‘And you generally eat what Eve does, do you?’ Crowley drawled with a little twinkle in his amber eyes as he walked over to a nearby bush, plucked off some berries and shoved them in his mouth.

‘I certainly do _not_ , serpent,’ Aziraphale replied stiffly.

Aziraphale was so distracted by the insult that it wasn’t until Crowley had swallowed his mouthful of berries that he realised _which_ bush Crowley had plucked berries from.

Crowley made a face, ‘eating, huh? Well I don’t care for it.’

‘Oh, Crawley, I didn’t mean those berries…’ Aziraphale whispered as Crowley collapsed onto the ground.

**Mesopotamia 3004BC**

Aziraphale sat on the Ark and stared sadly out at the rising water. He couldn’t see—at all—how his was for the best, how this was the right thing to do. But he supposed he had to trust in God. Another body floated past and Aziraphale grimaced.

Then the body moved. In fact, it did what would later be called backstroke. Aziraphale bolted upright. Noone could still be alive out there. That would take a – a –

‘Oh, hello Aziraphale!’

Aziraphale sighed. Of course. ‘Crawley! What are you doing out there?’

‘Well, I could’ve escaped to Australia I suppose—they love me down there—but I wanted to take in the show. ‘m a bit water logged I’ll admit.’

‘Crawley,’ Aziraphale said with a head shake, ‘it’s dangerous.’

Crowley snorted as he continued to float about near the ark, ‘m a demon! God can’t kill me with a bit of water. Not without blessing it first. Ha!’

Aziraphale grimaced at the joke. But then his eyes widened in terror, ‘Crawley! Crawley! You have to get out of there! Quickly!’

Crowley snorted again.

‘Shark!’

Aziraphale tried to miracle Crowley onto the Ark but he was too late. Half his body was already gone.

**Golgotha 36AD**

‘Crawley? Crowley?’ Aziraphale squinted into the setting sun, ‘is that you up there?’

Crowley, barely conscious attempted and failed to lift his head. He did manage to make a low groaning noise.

Aziraphale sighed, ‘well, this is hardly appropriate! You can’t go around having yourself _crucified_! It makes a mockery of it. Can’t you just miracle yourself off the thing….’ He sighed again, ‘I suppose I’ll have to …’ he said as he started fumbling with the ropes, ‘oh dear, there’s something in the binding, isn’t there? Some kind of blessing? Well no wonder… ’ He clucked his tongue and continued, persisting with the ropes until Crowley slumped into his arms but it was already too late.

‘Oh well, didn’t save you the paperwork after all. I suppose the least I can do is bury you.’

**Australia 235AD**

Boomerang to the back of the head

**China 1620AD**

Fireworks mishap

**France 1799AD**

Knife trick gone wrong

_Well, you get the idea…_

**London back street 1862**

Crowley stumbled down the street, bottle in hand, reeking of alcohol. An older gentleman walked past quickly giving Crowley a little disdainful sniff. Crowley’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, his arms outstretched widely as he replied in a mocking tone, ‘Oh I ssssupoose you wouldn’t trust me with holy water either, would you?’ He brought the bottle to his lips and drunk long and hard, ‘he’s got no reason! No reason! Bloody angel!’


	8. A little faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Aziraphale's magic act

Crowley looked around at the rest of the audience. Bunch of nerds. Every last one of them. Nerds of the very worst kind too: magic nerds. Book nerds would be better. And that was saying something.

Crowley folded his arms in a huff, ‘Why am I here, again?’

Aziraphale looked up from the glossy program that he’d paid an exorbitant amount for coming in—course he had it was a _book_ about _magic,_ not real magic mind, tricks. Aziraphale’s wide eyes shone with excitement and in spite of himself, Crowley softened a little. He masked it well.

‘Because, dear boy,’ Aziraphale said with a wiggle, ‘Gloria is the greatest magician of her generation! Her tricks are revolutionary! The best since Houdini himself! And I may get some ideas for my own magic act…’

Crowley grimaced, ‘that’s why _you’re_ here. Why am I here?’

‘Because we keep our promises to each other,’ Aziraphale said primly, returning to the program.

Crowley snorted, ‘I still say promises extracted in the middle of a blow job shouldn’t count.’

Aziraphale ignored him.

The lights dimmed.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale gasped, ‘it’s starting!’

Crowley sighed, ‘Satan save me.’

Actually, the act wasn’t too bad. Gloria at least had stage presence. She mixed magic in with a dash of comedy and pop culture references. There was even a sequence based on the latest big action movie that Crowley…well, he did _not_ enjoy it, but maybe he didn’t _hate_ it.

Then the lights went up and Gloria asked for a volunteer from the audience. Aziraphale raised both hands and bounced up and down in his seat with pathetic enthusiasm. Crowley grimaced and tried to sink down low. But it was no use.

‘You there, the gentleman with the red hair and sunglasses!’

Everyone turned.

‘Oh, Crowley,’ Aziraphale whispered his eyes glinting, ‘she means you.’

‘You think,’ Crowley whispered back. He shook his head and answered Gloria loudly, ‘no thank you.’

‘C’mon, there’s no need to be frightened.’

‘I’m not frightened,’ Crowley replied with a huff.

‘We’ll wait for you, up you get.’

‘Please, dear,’ Aziraphale whispered, his eyes wide and pleading, ‘you are making a scene. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.’

Crowley growled. ‘Fine.’ He stormed up to the stage, the round of applause annoying him further.

‘Welcome,’ Gloria smiled.

‘Just get on with it,’ Crowley replied, disgruntled.

‘Impatient, aren’t we?’ Gloria answered as she clicked her fingers and a pool of water appeared next to them on stage, ‘know this one?’ She added with a wink.

Crowley grimaced, ‘I hope not. Please no.’

‘This is an ordinary pool of water,’ Gloria announced loudly to the audience, ‘as my wonderful volunteer will confirm.’

Crowley sighed and walked around and pool, ‘yeah fine.’

Gloria blasted the audience with a perfect smile, stepped to the side of the pool and raised her hands up high. Typical, Crowley thought to himself, bloody drama queens every last one of them. And then she walked on water. Course she did. The audience gasped.

‘Admit it,’ Gloria whispered, ‘you’re a little bit impressed.’

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Crowley drawled sarcastically.

‘Join me!’ Gloria shouted loudly enough for the audience to hear.

Crowley shook his head.

‘C’mon,’ Gloria replied still in her stage voice, ‘have a little faith!’

‘Ha!’ Crowley laughed, amused. He shook his head, ‘alright. Fine. Once in a lifetime opportunity I suppose.’

He stepped out onto the pool, his snakeskin shoes quickly finding the invisible ground just under the water’s surface. He looked down and quickly realised he shouldn’t have. It just felt so wrong. So very wrong. He knew it was a trick. But he was a demon. He was _supposed_ to sink. And, just like that, he began to, slipping lower into the water with every step.

Gloria, professional that she was, maintained her stage face even as she whispered to Crowley, ‘sorry, that isn’t meant to happen. You can swim, can’t you?’

Crowley laughed as he continued to sink, the water now lapping at his waist, ‘swim? Ha. Yeah sure.’

‘Good,’ Gloria whispered back, ‘we’ll have to make the best of it. Just follow my cues.’

But it didn’t come to that. Suddenly, Crowley was afloat again, walking across the pool’s surface, not a drop of water on him.

Gloria grinned widely and announced for the audience, ‘see what’s possible with a little faith!’

As they cheered, she whispered to Crowley, ‘let’s get off here quickly before it breaks again.’

‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Crowley whispered as he followed her.

Another round of applause and they parted, Crowley retuning to his seat and Gloria moving on to the finale. He sat with a slump.

Aziraphale chewed his lip, eyes darting across to him nervously.

‘That was humiliating,’ Crowley drawled.

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale whispered back with a little nervous chuckle, ‘couldn’t have been that bad. I’d love to share the stage with Gloria.’

Crowley shook his head, ‘I didn’t mean the magic act. Though that was, in fact, humiliating. I mean when an angel made me _walk on water_.’

‘Well,’ Aziraphale whispered, ‘I couldn’t very well let you spoil the act. Why did you sink like that anyway? It was quite rude, Crowley.’

‘I didn’t do it deliberately,’ Crowley hissed.

‘At least it was real magic,’ Aziraphale said, fussing with his bow tie, and looking back to the stage, ‘I know you don’t like any of the tricks.’

‘I think, where walking on water is concerned, I prefer the trick,’ Crowley drawled.

Aziraphale turned back to Crowley and his eyes lit up in such delight that Crowley knew that he’d taken that quite the wrong way.


	9. Seek and ye shall find

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: behind the couch

‘Angel, what are you doing?’ Crowley drawled from his position on the couch, peering up over his mobile phone to watch as Aziraphale fussed about his Bookshop.

Aziraphale sighed, pressing his hands together in worry, ‘I’ve lost something.’

Crowley raised an eyebrow, ‘in this pristine, well-ordered establishment? You astonish me!’

Aziraphale frowned, ‘don’t be cruel, dear. It was _important_.’

Crowley sighed, throwing his mobile phone at the coffee table, ‘alright. What was it? ‘ll help you look for it.’

‘Oh, would you, dear?’ Aziraphale gushed, lighting up.

‘Only way I’ll get some peace. What is it?’

‘A letter,’ Aziraphale said carefully, ‘it should be on my desk. But it isn’t.’

‘Yeah,’ Crowley drawled, ‘It definitely isn’t on your desk. I’ve just watched you turn your desk upside down looking for it. And the coffee table, and the bookshelves and the back room….which means it is in the one place you haven’t looked…’

Crowley jumped up as he continued, ‘behind the couch!’ He clicked his fingers, miracling the couch to zoom forward. Crowley and Aziraphale both coughed as a cloud of dust filled the air.

‘Ziraphale! If you aren’t going to miracle the Bookshop clean at least use a vacuum occasionally!’ Crowley said between coughs.

‘The dust helps keep away the customers!’ Aziraphale replied with a frown.

‘Well, it would, wouldn’t it?’ Crowley said bending down to take closer look. He began to gather up anything he could find, careful not to disturb the cobwebs, there were plenty of spiders still living in them by the looks.

Crowley pulled out a very dusty tartan cravat, ‘well, cravats are certainly not in fashion anymore. Not that that’s ever stopped you.’

Aziraphale pulled it from Crowley’s hands, ‘really, dear,’ he looked at the cravat closely, ‘all it needs is a good wash.’

Crowley rolled his eyes and fossicked some more, ‘oh, a book, what a surprise,’ he drawled peering at the cover, ‘Arrows From The Dark by Sophie Cole, huh, oh Mills and Boon, wait isn’t that…’

‘Thank-you,’ Aziraphale said snatching it up, ‘First edition. First romance they ever published. This is a very valuable book, Crowley and I won’t have you laughing about it.’

Crowley snorted, ‘so valuable you lost it under the couch.’

Aziraphale tutted and fussed about with the book returning it to the shelves, ‘never mind that, is there a letter?’

‘Still looking, angel,’ Crowley said as he reached in further, ‘And what’s this contraption then?’ he said pulling out a device with a long black length and a metal end with a hand crank. Crowley turned the hand crank and the black length vibrated.

‘What’s what then?’ Aziraphale said turning around to see the vibrating contraption in Crowley’s hands. ‘Its for improving circulation!’ Aziraphale said quickly, flushing a delicate pink.

Crowley grinned knowing exactly what it was now that he could see it in action, ‘So the ladies would say in polite company as I recall. Why, angel, I had no idea you’d…’

‘Just give it here,’ Aziraphale said testily, yanking it out of Crowley’s hands, ‘a customer must have left it. I’ll just pop it into the back room for her when she…er…comes back for it.’

‘Of course, angel,’ Crowley said with cackle, ‘m sure that happens all the time.’

Crowley shook his head. Six thousand years and Aziraphale was still full of surprises. Still, he’d never thought Aziraphale would have experimented with sex toys. Did he flip the shop sign to closed and go at it on the couch? It was an interesting thought…. Later, Crowley reminded himself, he’d explore that thought later. He reached in further behind the couch, pulling out a letter, ‘Found it!’

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale sighed in relief reaching out to take the letter, ‘That’s it! Thank-you, dear.’

‘Wait,’ Crowley said, turning the letter over in his hands, ‘This is from me.’

‘Yes, yes, hand it over.’

‘But,’ Crowley said, still turning it over, ‘it isn’t anything special. This is just a quick note, telling you to meet me and when. It isn’t even a letter, really.’

‘Still. I keep all of them.’

‘All of them?’ Crowley repeated.

‘Yes, all of them,’ Aziraphale said, hand still outstretched waiting for Crowley to hand over the letter.

‘What you keep all the correspondence you’ve ever gotten?’ Crowley said, still turning the letter over in his hands, forehead creased in a frown.

‘No! That would be ridiculous! Where would I even store it? I just keep,’ Aziraphale licked his lips, suddenly realising all too late just how revealing it was, ‘that is I only keep…’

‘Mine,’ Crowley finished the sentence for him, his mind whirling as new revelation matched up with new revelation and quickly added up to an earth-shattering, life-changing revelation of epic proportions. Crowley stood, his amber eyes bleeding gold out to the edge, letter still in hand. He licked his lips and looked at Aziraphale, really looked at him, his own breath coming hard and fast. And then, in a single swift movement, he closed the gap between them, his lips crushing against Aziraphale’s own in a passionate kiss.

‘Oh Crowley!’ Aziraphale gasped, kissing him back with centuries of hunger.

Hours later, as they held each other on the couch, happy and satiated, Aziraphale playing tenderly with Crowley’s hair, Aziraphale smiled and said, ‘you found something else under the couch, you know.’

‘Hmm, what’s that, angel?’

‘My heart. At last you found my heart.’

Crowley blushed a bright red even as he grimaced.

‘Bit too on the nose?’ Aziraphale said with a frown.

‘Just a bit,’ Crowley chuckled, ‘Kinda liked it, though,’ he added softly.

‘Oh, I know you did.’


	10. Back Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: clothes and clothing mishaps

‘I’m not sure this is a good idea, Crowley,’ Aziraphale said with a frown, as he held up the ancient jewel-encrusted golden disc. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the symbols on it. Aztec perhaps? Or Mayan? ‘Where did you even get this?’

‘S’fine,’ Crowley said with a dismissive wave, ‘Had it for ages. Does exactly was it says on the…’ Crowley gestured towards the golden disc in Aziraphale’s hands, ‘well, on the golden disc I suppose. Didn’t exactly come in a box. C’mon, angel. It’s the perfect plan. The perfect way of getting revenge on Hastur. I’ll never get another opportunity like this in a thousand years.’

Aziraphale clicked his tongue, ‘But, dear boy, if this…item…once charged, disables all demonic miracles within a 10km radius or thereabouts then it will disable yours too.’ Aziraphale looked up, meeting Crowley’s golden eyes, ‘You’ll be quite helpless.’

‘Yeah, but I have an alliance with an angel, don’t I?’ Crowley argued back, ‘so if I get into any trouble, you can rescue me for once. Anyway, I’ve already got all the details sorted. Filled the Bentley with petrol and everything. Jus’ gotta run to the Bentley, zoom 10km away and I’ll be back to normal, won’t I?’

Aziraphale chewed at his bottom lip.

‘Angel, ‘m doing it,’ Crowley said definitely, ‘do you want to be there as my back up or not?’

Aziraphale sighed deeply. ‘Well, when you put it like that, I don’t have much choice, do I?’

_Ten hours later_

‘Now angel,’ Crowley whispered through the side of his mouth.

Aziraphale started fiddling with the little disc, closing his eyes as he used a miracle to activate the device’s anti-demonic miracle field. He felt a little zing as it came into effect.

‘Well, well, Hastur,’ Crowley drawled, looking particularly pleased with himself, ‘it looks like it’s the end of the road for you, I…’

‘Oh, Good Lord!’ Aziraphale exclaimed loudly, as his eyes fluttered open.

Crowley’s gaze flicked to Aziraphale, ‘Angel, do you mind? ‘m monologuing here.’

Aziraphale stared back at Crowley wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. His gaze drifted down Crowley’s body and back up to again meet Crowley’s eyes. Crowley frowned. What was Aziraphale playing at?

‘Crowley, dear, you don’t still miracle your clothes, do you?’ Aziraphale said with a gulp.

‘Miracle my?’ Crowley repeated. And then it registered. Oh yes. It was rather drafty in here all of a sudden, wasn’t it? Crowley looked down. Stark naked. With an effort. Bloody lovely.

Crowley cleared his throat. He took a deep breath and stood at full height. When he spoke it was with maximum bravado, ‘My sudden nudity doesn’t diminish for one moment, the fact that I’ve absolutely fucked the little operation you’ve got going here, Hastur.’

Hastur shrugged, a little smile playing about his lips, ‘Whatever you say.’

‘C’mon angel,’ Crowley growled, marching out the door.

‘What?’ Aziraphale gulped, ‘Oh yes. Running away. Quite.’

Aziraphale had to hurry to keep up with Crowley who strode out of the derelict old building at a furious pace, head held high. Crowley strode straight for the Bentley, carefully ignoring the stares of the humans around them. He waited silently for Aziraphale to slip into the passenger seat beside him, started up the car and began to drive away.

Aziraphale sat in the passenger seat, gingerly taking little peaks at Crowley beside him, huffing and puffing from the quick walk and just a little from the ah… general excitement.

As Crowley drove quickly down the street, he turned to Aziraphale, ‘you know, you were my back up, you could’ve miracled me up some clothes?’

‘Ah,’ Aziraphale said, trying to keep eye contact with Crowley and failing.

‘Up here, angel,’ Crowley said, clicking his fingers next to his eyes.

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale said with a blush as he dragged his gaze forcefully back up to Crowley’s face.

‘Could’ve gotten the humans to look away too,’ Crowley continued.

‘Humans?’ Aziraphale gulped, looking back, ‘were there humans? I’m terribly sorry, Crowley, I didn’t see…’

Crowley snorted. He shook his head. Then he smiled. ‘You could miracle me up some clothes now, angel.’

Aziraphale swallowed, ‘I suppose, technically, I could.’

‘You’re not going to though, are you?’

Aziraphale shook his head tightly.

Crowley laughed. ‘You know what? I think that works for me.’


	11. Portal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: what do they do when they are apart?

Crowley yawned as he shuffled up in the queue. After a few years on Earth, Hell’s bleak misery was all the bleaker. It was dark and cold and damp, and something was dripping from the ceiling with a rhythm that made Crowley want to punch a wall. Which he supposed was probably the general idea. Crowley just hoped it was water.

‘Crawley?’

Crowley turned to the other demon and waved, ‘Oh, hi, Brian.’

Brian grinned, delighted. The bat perched on his head—entangled into his hair so it was impossible to tell where Brain ended and bat began (no coincidence there, the bat was Brain)—shifted slightly, opening its yellow eyes to look at Crowley suspiciously.

‘I haven’t seen you since before the…’ Brain coughed discretely, ‘well, you know,’ he leaned forward and whispered, ‘didn’t exactly get better working conditions, did we?’

Crowley snorted, winked at Brain and said loudly, ‘Oh I agree. The glorious revolution was completely…er glorious…’

‘Oh,’ Brain replied loudly, taking his cue, ‘absolutely glorious! I’m jolly glad I joined it let me tell you!’

Crowley nodded along.

‘Nice work on the whole apple thing by the way,’ Brain said returning to his usual voice, ‘its been the talk of Hell.’

Crowley shrugged, ‘Oh, they just said to make some trouble,’ he drawled as he shifted up in the queue.

‘You stationed back here then?’ Brain continued.

‘Nah,’ Crowley replied, ‘m in Australia for while. Just popped in for a meeting. Well, and to…’ Crowley gestured to the communication portal in front of him.

‘Right, right. Yeah,’ Brian nodded, ‘well I’d better let you get on with it. See you around.’

Crowley waved at Brain’s retreating figure and, with a deep breath, stepped into the communication portal. He instantly felt nauseous and headachey and like his insides were the wrong way around. Crowley hated this thing. Absolutely hated it. Though, as bad as it was from this end, it was even worse from the other side. He swallowed down the rising bile in his throat and gave his message.

Somewhere in Mesopotamia, an angel bolted upright from where he was sitting under a tree. A jolt of fear passed through him as he expected a missive from Michael, or perhaps even Gabriel. But no, it was from Crawley. He smiled and relaxed as the message downloaded directly into his mind.

Ah, Crawley was going to Australia. And for quite some time. Well, that was a shame, he thought to himself. Aziraphale very deliberately did not linger on why that might be a shame. Still, he’d see him again soon enough. And in the meantime, they could always keep in touch. Well, whenever one of them had a meeting at their respective head offices anyway. Aziraphale felt vaguely guilty about using Heaven’s communication portal to communicate with a demon. But he didn’t linger on that either.

Years went by, centuries even, and the humans came up with all kinds of new ways to communicate with each other. As each new method was invented, Crowley would show Aziraphale, demonstrating each piece of new technology with a proud grin, shaking his head and saying, ‘clever humans!’ Aziraphale would frown and fuss and protest. He usually couldn’t be talked into adopting any particular method until it had been around for a ridiculous length of time (and often superseded by something new). But Crowley did get Aziraphale to reluctantly agree to sticking with human communication at least.

Carrier pigeons and messager boys, telegrams and email, letters and morse code, telephones and text messages, they tried it all. Crowley even introduced Hell to many of the innovations and although they never really understood human technology, their confused bumbling with it did reduce the number of times Crowley had to submit to information being downloaded directly into his head. And that, Crowley thought, was a damn good thing.

In short, Crowley was always at the forefront of innovations in communication, always the early adopter, always keen, always enthusiastically pushing the latest technology onto whoever he had to or chose to communicate with. That is, he was, until, finally, several centuries after a failed Armageddon, he wasn’t.

‘I’m surprised you aren’t insisting we get one of those new communication thingies,’ Aziraphale said with a sniff as he cuddled into Crowley on the couch, pulling up the little rug to cover them both, ‘what are they calling it again?’

‘The portal,’ Crowley said with distaste, wrapping his arm around Aziraphale, ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘The portal?’ Aziraphale said with a raised eyebrow, ‘and how does it work?’

Crowley sighed painfully. Obviously, his wish to drop the conversation was going to be ignored. Well, best get over with it then, ‘you step into the portal and give your message. It zooms through the matrix and is downloaded directly into someone’s head.’

Aziraphale frowned, ‘But that sounds like…’

‘Yep. Why we’re not getting one,’ Crowley replied.

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale chuckled, ‘you never did like those communication portals, did you?’ he sighed, ‘nothing new under the sun.’

Crowley snorted. ‘Stupid humans.’


	12. Give it a toss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: dungeons and dragons

‘You walk into the tavern,’ Crowley begins with an eyebrow waggle. He takes a sip of wine before continuing.

Aziraphale smiles in anticipation.

‘The low light of the fire casts an orange glow over the room and the patrons within. The tavern owner, a wizened old soul calls out from behind the bar,’ Crowley says melodramatically, amber eyes alight with mischief. He coughs and puts on a gruff voice for the owner, “Well met! Well met! What will it be?”’

Aziraphale chuckles, ‘Oh, very realistic. I notice you skipped describing the stench. They always had a strong smell those taverns as I recall.’

Crowley rolls his eyes and taps his fingers on the table in front of himself impatiently, ‘What are you doing then, angel?’

Aziraphale sighs, ‘alright then…’ he clears his throat and gets himself into character, ‘I’ll have something from the pot and a cup of your finest mead, good fellow,’ he declares theatrically.

‘The owner fetches you a bowlful of something suitably miserable looking from the pot and hands it to you along with a cup of mead. As you eat you gaze around the tavern and you notice, in the corner, a familiar face,’ Crowley drawls.

Aziraphale gasps, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

‘It is your arch-enemy,’ Crowley cries, ‘Asanno the legendary drow warrior! His yellow eyes meet your own and he sneers. You realise that this is your opportunity to reclaim the jewel of knowledge.’

‘Legendary?’ Aziraphale repeats with a smile, ‘he wishes!’

‘Shuddup,’ Crowley growls, ‘roll for initiative.’

They both roll their D20s. Aziraphale sighs immediately. He has the lower number, ‘well, go on then.’

‘Asanno swiftly leaps over the table…actually hang on a sec,’ Crowley rolls his dice, ‘Asanno swiftly leaps over the table and to your side. He attempts to grapple you, pulling you onto the ground and pinning you on the floor,’ Crowley rolls again, ‘and he succeeds!’

Aziraphale shakes his head and tuts.

‘Alright,’ Crowley says with a wide grin, ‘watcha gonna do?’

Aziraphale gives this some thought, ‘let’s see…’ he taps out a little rhythm on the table in between them and comes to a decision, ‘I lean forward. Ever so close. So close you can feel my warm breath against your skin,’ Aziraphale stands and leans across the table.

Crowley, can indeed, feel Aziraphale’s warm breath on his skin. It makes him shiver with delicious pleasure. Delicious and forbidden pleasure. He bites his lower lip and memorises the sensations for later.

Aziraphale whispers, his breath tickling Crowley’s neck, ‘Couldn’t keep your hands off me, huh? Isn’t it time we gave up this ridiculous dance? You beautiful creature, you perfect being, I know you want me and frankly I’m tired of waiting to get my hands on you too…’

Crowley shudders. He gulps hard. What the hell is Aziraphale doing? He shifts slightly in his seat.

Aziraphale continues, unrelenting, in soft honeyed tones that burn deep into Crowley’s being, ‘Let’s get a room. I want to take you apart slowly, piece by piece. I’ll lick every inch of your skin, discover every secret of your body, every hidden pleasure. I promise I’ll take you to the very edge of ecstasy, to the limits of heaven itself.’

Crowley bites down on his lower lip all the harder as his trousers strain against his newly manifested cock, already rock-hard.

Aziraphale smiles like he knows the effect he is having, but surely not? Aziraphale, after all, is not speaking to Crowley. He is speaking to Asanno.

Aziraphale’s whispers continue his voice low with desire, ‘I’ve long desired to take your cock into my mouth, to taste you and suck you, and to draw you down deeply until you moan out your full release and feed my appetite.’

‘Ngh.’

Aziraphale licks his lips. He is so close his tongue brushes ever so slightly against Crowley’s ear. Crowley bites back a moan.

‘And then I think I’d have to bend you over and fuck you,’ Aziraphale says softly, ‘Would you be tight for me? Would you like that? For me to take my pleasure in you. To fill you with my release. Would you come again for me? Release your seed all over yourself?’

Crowley’s eyes flutter shut, and he palms himself under the table, lost in imagining the scene. The characters are long gone. Crowley sees only himself and his angel, and, by everything holy and unholy, he wants what he sees. He wants it very badly indeed.

‘You want it too,’ Aziraphale adds, as if he knows what Crowley is thinking, ‘so I’m sure we can come up with some kind of arrangement…’ he pauses a moment and lets that word linger, lets it hang there teasingly, ‘Just hand over the jewel of knowledge and we’ll book that room.’

As Aziraphale finishes his whispering he reaches over to his D20 and gives it a roll. He smiles as he rolls a 20 and sits back in his seat with a smug smile on his face.

Crowley blinks without comprehension, dazed, disorientated and still caught up in the fantasy.

‘Critical hit.’

‘What?’ Crowley drawls.

For my seduction attempt,’ Aziraphale says with a little wiggle.

Crowley licks his lips and looks at the white D20 sitting on the table.

‘Well that’s,’ Crowley begins. He swallows hard. He clears his throat. ‘Well, obviously, you succeed.’

‘And what do you do?’ Aziraphale says, taking a sip of wine.

‘I…I…’ Crowley replies, mind blank, ‘I…I… try to escape, to slither away…’ He can feel his erection leaking in his trousers.

Aziraphale nods, ‘Well, aren’t you going to give it a toss?’

‘What?!’ Crowley cries wide-eyed and horrified.

‘Your dice, dear boy!’

‘Right. Right. I knew that,’ Crowley answers. He shifts in his seat and rolls a 1.

‘Ah, looks like I’ve seduced you!’ Aziraphale says with another little wiggle.

‘Yeah,’ Crowley laughs, his mouth dry, ‘looks like you have.'


	13. Bright side of life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: crossover. I've written a Monty Python's Life of Brian crossover.

Aziraphale frowned as he peered out of the stable entrance and into the night. The bright star overhead gave the Bethlehem streets a soft glow and the awed whispering of the shepherds mingled with Mary’s gentle lullaby. It should have all been quite peaceful. Yet, Aziraphale’s hands twisted nervously. Where were they? The shepherds had arrived long ago and this lot were meant to be wise. 

Aziraphale sighed in relief as he spotted them. He did a quick head count—one, two, three, _perfect_ —‘Welcome! Welcome!’

‘An angel of the Lord,’ one of the three wise men whispered, ‘this is where we are meant to be.’ He shook his head and smiled, raising his hands to Heaven, ‘Praise the Lord!’

The three wise men double-backed for a moment—much to Aziraphale’s alarm—but they soon returned bearing gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

‘Welcome,’ Aziraphale repeated with a wide smile, ‘please come in,’ he paused and added with a little irritation, ‘we’ve been expecting you.’

‘Sorry,’ the second wise man said with a sigh as all three of them slipped into the stable, keen to begin their praising, ‘we got a bit lost. Spent a bit of time with the other one up there.’

Aziraphale’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried desperately to make sense of what the wise man was saying, ‘sorry. Did you say the _other_ one?’

‘Uh-ha,’ the third one answered, the silver coins of his facial jewellery jingling as he turned to point, ‘just up the road a bit. Bit confusing if you ask me. Having a decoy and all. I mean a star isn’t exactly specific to a particular dwelling, is it? This whole thing was difficult enough without a decoy. God needs to be a bit clearer.’

Aziraphale frowned some more, ‘it’s all ineffability, you understand. Quite, quite important to the um… anyway, it’s quite important. Excuse me a moment.’

As the wise men got on with their praising, Aziraphale walked up the road in the direction that the third wise man had indicated. There was, indeed, another stable, and in that stable another newborn babe lay peacefully asleep in another manager. The scene surrounding the baby was quite different, however. This baby had no one but his mother. Yet, there she was, by his side, watching over him tenderly and faithfully. The very best of humanity. It tugged at Aziraphale’s heart strings and he smiled warmly.

The mother looked up from her babe, spotting Aziraphale in the doorway, ‘What do you want?’ She growled. 

‘What? Nothing,’ Aziraphale said, arms stretched out widely in a defensive posture, ‘Sorry to disturb you. They’d said there was another baby so I thought I’d…’

‘Thought you’d have a sticky beak did you? Oh, there’s a helpless beautiful young mother round here,’ the mother said mockingly, ‘We all know she puts out. I think I’ll have a go at her.’

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in shock, ‘what?! No! You’ve got entirely the wrong idea. I am an angel of the Lord!’

‘An angel of who?’ the mother growled, showing her blackened teeth.

‘The Lord,’ Aziraphale answered, ‘God, our father, the Almighty, the God of Israel, the one they call Jehovah or Yahweh…’

The mother snorted, ‘never heard of him. Shouldn’t send his angels creeping around looking for young mothers to molest though, should he?’

‘What?!’ Aziraphale gulped, struggling to make sense of such a disturbing conversation.

The babe interrupted with a loud, bleating cry.

The mother snorted again and back handed the babe carelessly, ‘Shuddup, Brian.’

Aziraphale backed out of the stable and hurried back down the road.

‘Wait!’ He heard the mother cry as he ran away, ‘You didn’t bring any gold, did you? I’ve got nothing to eat!’

Aziraphale took several deep breaths as he stood guard at the doorway to the correct stable, the stable where the Lord’s son, Jesus Christ slept peacefully. His heart hammered in his chest and his hands shook at his side.

Without warning, Gabriel appeared beside him in a burst of white light. Aziraphale jumped.

‘Everything in hand, Aziraphale?’

‘Yes…’ Aziraphale gulped, ‘yes. Completely. All according to plan, Er… prophesy. Nothing unexpected or strange at all. Just one baby and he’s in there.’ He smiled in a manner that he hoped was convincing.

**Judea 33AD**

**Saturday afternoon**

**About tea time**

‘Blessed are the sorrowful,’ Jesus addressed the crowd with careful enunciation, ‘they shall find consolation. And blessed are those who hunger and thirst to see right prevail. They shall be satisfied.’

Crowley snorted from where he stood at the very back of the large crowd, ‘I showed him all the kingdoms of the world and that’s the best he could come up with,’ he whispered to the woman with the colourful head scarf next to him.

‘Sh!’ the crowd hushed him.

Crowley waggled his head mockingly. Actually, truth be told he was rather impressed by the sermon. Annoyingly impressed. It was beautiful. The trouble was, from Crowley’s perspective, none of it was _true_.

The truth was God was brutal, unyielding and demanded blood sacrifice for forgiveness. Well, from humans. Demons were simply unforgivable. Anyway, point being— _point being_ — none of that was gonna change.

Jesus could preach peace and tolerance all he liked. None of this was going to end well for him. Shame. He was clever, Jesus. Ridiculously clever. But he was taken in by Heaven’s propaganda just the same. How could someone so clever be so stupid?

‘Speak up!’ the woman in black cried out. She shook her head and started trying to convince her son to go to the stoning instead.

Crowley yawned. It really was hard to hear the exact words at this distance. They all kinda blended into one. The debate about the sizes of everyone’s nose didn’t help.

‘What’s so special about the cheese makers?’ a young Greek woman asked as people closer up passed back their garbled version of the sermon.

Crowley snorted.

‘Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally,’ her husband said very seriously, ‘it refers to any manufacturer of dairy products…’

Crowley snorted again. Humans would believe anything. Really, why was Heaven trying so hard? Humanity would believe any old dick was the messiah and regularly did. Jesus was doing well for himself, but he was hardly the only game in town.

Wait, oh! Wait. Crowley grinned. Maybe there was some mischief to be had here, after all. Crowley just had to find the right person… He looked around himself. Ah. Maybe. He really did have a big nose, but maybe.

Little did Crowley know this would prove to be one of his demonic plans that soon got quite out of hand. But, you know, you have to look on the bright side, huh?


	14. A question of performance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bosses and supervisors

‘Well, Aziraphale,’ Gabriel said with a smarmy smile from behind his white-light desk. He gestured for Aziraphale to take a seat. Nervously, hands twisting together, Aziraphale did.

‘Another year, huh, Aziraphale?’ Gabriel grinned.

Aziraphale nodded politely.

‘I’ve reviewed the documents you sent me. All the necessary paperwork,’ Gabriel said tapping a stack of paper on his desk. Aziraphale’s gaze darted towards the forms. So many forms. Why were there always so many forms? It had taken Aziraphale a week to put it all together. It had also taken significant creativity from Crowley to embellish it. After a few hours of discussion and several glasses of wine Crowley had discovered how to make Aziraphale’s cold numbers _flattering_. But Crowley had always been good at that kind of thing. Aziraphale smiled to himself fondly.

‘But before I sign any of this,’ Gabriel continued, pulling Aziraphale out of his thoughts, ‘I’d like for you and I to have a little chat.’

‘A-a little chat?’

Gabriel nodded, ‘Exactly. I want to go through all that stuff the facts and figures don’t really capture. I want to understand exactly how this year was for the Principality Aziraphale.’

Aziraphale coughed delicately, ‘Well, I-I think it’s all captured quite nicely in the forms. If you refer to page 10 for example, you’ll see that my rate of conversions is 5.4 times higher than…’

Gabriel waved his hand dismissively, ‘I’ve read it, Aziraphale.’

‘Right,’ Aziraphale licked his lips nervously, ‘You did say that, yes.’

‘I want to know what makes the Principality Aziraphale tick,’ Gabriel said as he rubbed his chin as he thought. He lent forward as he was struck by an idea, ‘I know. Tell me this. What did you learn this year?’

That I’m in love with Crowley, Aziraphale thought to himself in a desperate rush, and, even more shocking again, that he loves me in return. Aziraphale swallowed hard. Well, he thought, I can’t say that. Obviously. What else have I learned? Aziraphale’s mind spun desperately. What would Crowley say? No doubt he’d come up with something brilliant and wily.

‘I-I…’ Aziraphale spluttered.

‘What are you passionate about?’ Gabriel added impatiently.

‘Literature!’ Aziraphale cried out, grabbing the life-raft with both hands, ‘I take it upon myself to keep up to date with literature.’

Gabriel frowned, ‘What you mean those book-things?’

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said with a smile, ‘I’ve read some absolutely marvellous books this year alone. You see…’

Gabriel waved his hand again, ‘What’s the point in that?’

‘Well,’ Aziraphale said, ‘the thing is, humanity understands themselves through their stories. Through reading their stories, I’ve come to understand humanity better. The better I understand humanity, the better I can do my job.’

Gabriel snorted and shook his head, ‘Well, you get points for originality, Aziraphale, I’ve never heard that one before. But really, you needn’t bother with all that. Now, tell me about your adversary.’

‘Adversary?’ Aziraphale squeaked.

‘Yes, you tend interact with a specific demon, correct? Also stationed on Earth. What’s his name again?’ Gabriel said with a frown.

‘Crowley,’ Aziraphale answered softly, hoping his affection wasn’t immediately apparent.

‘That’s it! Crowley,’ Gabriel said with a nod, ‘Tell me more about your interactions with Crowley this year.’

Aziraphale nodded slowly as memories of the past year—love confessions and passionate embraces—danced before his eyes. He swallowed hard, ‘Well, well…the thing is…’

‘I bet you brought him to his knees, didn’t you?’ Gabriel said with a grin.

Aziraphale nodded, teeth biting into his lower lip, ‘Yes, yes that did happen, now you mention it.’

‘Really made him beg…’

‘That, too. Yes,’ Aziraphale confirmed, a little blush creeping across his cheeks.

‘Pushed him into the ground and just let him have it…’

‘Well, to be honest, yes. There were a number of occasions when that did occur,’ Aziraphale answered, his cheeks flaming.

‘Brilliant!’

‘He’s a worthy adversary,’ Aziraphale said fondly, thinking of all the times when the situation was reversed.

‘Worthy?’ Gabriel repeated.

‘I mean not worthy, but um… we’re evenly matched I suppose you could say,’ Aziraphale said with a little cough, ‘for all his faults,’ Aziraphale shook his head severely, ‘and he has many being a demon,’ he licked his lips, ‘he is good at what he does. He’s quite talented and brilliant, you see, at times I best him and at times he beats me, which makes him a worthy opponent, -in -in a manner of speaking....’

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. ‘He isn’t tempting you, is he? You aren’t falling for his demonic wiles?’

‘No!’ Aziraphale said with a panic, shaking his head quickly, knowing in his heart of hearts that he was lying. He fallen for Crowley long ago, ‘No. No, if anything, I am tempting him!’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Gabriel asked, confused.

‘Into acts of goodness,’ Aziraphale continued with desperate anxiety, ‘I’m tempting him into acts of goodness. Displays of generosity, kindness and love… that kind of thing, naturally, because I’m an angel,’ Aziraphale ended with a little hysterical chuckle. Well, technically, Aziraphale supposed, it was true. Crowley was exceedingly generous and kind with him and he had certainly been displaying his love for Aziraphale with remarkable enthusiasm.

‘I see,’ Gabriel smiled, ‘Outstanding, Aziraphale,’ he said, hitting his desk with his fist, ‘Absolutely outstanding. Well, I see no reason to hold you up. I’ll get this paperwork signed for you and you can be on your way.’

When Aziraphale stumbled into the Bookshop later that day, Crowley was already there waiting for him with a bottle of wine. Just another act of love.

‘How’d it go?’ Crowley drawled.

Aziraphale shook his head.

‘That bad?’ Crowley frowned, ‘He signed the forms though, right? He couldn’t not sign the forms. They were a masterpiece.’

Aziraphale sighed, ‘He did. Oh, pour me a glass. I’ll need a few before I can talk about it.’

Crowley snorted and opened the bottle. As Aziraphale relaxed enough to talk about it all Crowley found himself very amused indeed.


	15. True Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tentacles

Crowley poured himself another glass of red and fell back onto the picnic blanket. Aziraphale watched him fondly and helped himself to another strawberry.

‘The harp thing!’ Crowley said, waving his wine glass around, ‘That’s another one...'

Aziraphale tutted.

‘Why the harp? Of all the instruments?’ Crowley drawled, ‘why not a lute or a banjo?’

‘A banjo?’ Aziraphale repeated with a chuckle, ‘can you see Michael playing a banjo?’

‘Ha!’ Crowley laughed, ‘I’d give her a triangle.’

Aziraphale giggled.

‘Still, any instrument is better than a pitchfork, I suppose.’

Aziraphale smiled, his eyes lighting up, ‘I don’t know you’d look rather handsome with a pitchfork.’

Crowley snorted.

‘You could use it in the garden,’ Aziraphale continued waving towards the rose bushes.

‘Alright! Shuddup!’ Crowley replied, taking another swig of wine and eating a strawberry. Aziraphale chuckled to himself and ate a few grapes.

‘And then,’ Crowley said, as he sprawled out on the blanket, ‘then there’s the whole, you know, angelic true forms thing…’ Crowley laughed, ‘you know with all the eyes and the spinning wheels. Ridiculous! How do the humans come up with this stuff?’

Aziraphale instantly stilled. His eyes darted away, and he took a rather large gulp of wine.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. ‘What? Was that your doing, angel? What happened? Did you get drunk and decide to freak out some poor shepherd? Over-do it in the eye department?’

Aziraphale shook his head quickly, ‘No, no. Nothing like that.’

‘Then what?’ Crowley snorted, ‘I mean, angels don’t have true forms so…’

Aziraphale coughed delicately, ‘Well, that isn’t strictly speaking, in the most literal sense, ah… true. Anymore.’

‘Wait. What?!’ Crowley spluttered, bolting upright, ‘But we never had true forms. Demons were forced to choose an animal as their true form, and I choose a serpent ‘cause style, but that was all part of the punishment. Angels never had true forms…’

Aziraphale sighed and smoothed out the creases in his trousers, ‘Well, the thing is, after the Fall, every angel had to choose a true form too. Except we could choose, well, anything. It was a reward, you see, for loyalty.’

Crowley’s mouth opened and shut rapidly several times. He swallowed hard. ‘Wow. I…Wow…and someone chose lots of eyes and spinning wheels?’

Aziraphale took a sip from his glass, and licked his lips carefully before saying quietly, ‘Lots of someones. Eyes were very popular as I recall.’

Crowley burst out laughing.

‘Extra wings too,’ Aziraphale went on over Crowley’s giggles, ‘Very popular with angels who favoured a more human-like true form. Gabriel has eight sets, including the discretion wings.’

‘Discretion wings?’ Crowley repeated, eyes wide.

‘Ah, yes, well, wings around the um…’ Aziraphale gestured downwards towards his own crotch, ‘then if you make an effort it is all discretely covered you see…’

Crowley guffawed loudly collapsing back on the blanket and spilling the wine everywhere.

‘Oh really, Crowley!’ Aziraphale admonished. Crowley clicked his fingers to disappear the rapidly spreading red puddle.

‘Oh, c’mon,’ Crowley gasped between laughs, ‘Discretion wings! I can’t believe Gabriel has little wings to cover his…’ he gestured obscenely.

‘Oh, they aren’t little, Crowley…’ Aziraphale replied, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

Crowley collapsed into another fit of hysterics. He wiped the tears from his eyes, ‘Oh fuck, that’s…. that’s just…’ But his laughter stopped abruptly as his imagination caught up with him. His amber eyes widened, ‘Wait!’ he turned to Aziraphale and swallowed hard, ‘Wait! Do you have discretion wings?’

Aziraphale frowned and shook his head, ‘No.’

‘Oh, lots of eyes?’ Crowley gasped.

Aziraphale shook his head tightly.

‘Spinning wheels?’

Aziraphale shook his head again and chewed his bottom lip.

‘Well, alright. Go on then,’ Crowley drawled.

‘What?!’ Aziraphale cried.

‘Get it out,’ Crowley said, ‘give me a look.’

‘What? No!’ Aziraphale said, fussing about with his clothes.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. He looked away. He swallowed. ‘Yeah. Fine. Yeah. I understand. You still want to keep some things to yourself. Some lines just can’t be crossed. No big deal.’

Aziraphale sighed loudly, ‘don’t be ridiculous. It’s just...’ He sighed again.

‘Just what?’ Crowley asked, eyes darting back to Aziraphale.

‘Its embarrassing,’ Aziraphale replied a blush spreading across his cheeks. He shook his head quickly, ‘I hadn’t been to Earth yet, you understand. We could pick anything. Literally anything. I just, I just wanted to choose something different.’

‘Well, that sounds bloody brilliant,’ Crowley replied.

Aziraphale shook his head tightly again as his hands found each other, ‘you won’t like it. Your true form is beautiful. I’m, well…’

‘Aziraphale,’ Crowley said softly. He waited for Aziraphale’s eyes to find his own. ‘Aziraphale, now who’s being ridiculous? I love you. Show me.’

Aziraphale sighed. ‘Well, alright.’ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then…

Crowley found himself sitting on the picnic blanket with a squirming mass of tentacles, ‘Oh…’ he gulped, ‘tentacles…’

‘You see what I mean, Crowley?’ Aziraphale said sadly, ‘I’m changing back.’

‘No!’ Crowley cried, ‘not, not yet…’ he reached out gingerly and touched a tentacle. It was soft, squishy, covered in a something slimey and it shivered in response. Crowley swallowed hard.

‘Aziraphale?’ Crowley said thickly.

‘Hm?’

‘Remember when you wanted to experiment with my snake form?’ Crowley said hoarsely, ‘and I- and I- said yes?’

Aziraphale chuckled, ‘alright then. You fiend.’


	16. Ms. Hedgehog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: tiny

Crowley sighed. Damn. It was good to be back. It had been too long. All for a very good reason. Lately he’d been spending all his time with Aziraphale, and much of that time was spent fucking. So yeah, very good reason. But still. It was good to be back. Crowley strode along the little path in the little woods at a slow and easy pace. He was keen to get to the little village. But he made himself take his time, checking on the little trees along the way. They were all essentially bonsai, their tiny growth supported by a few well-placed demonic miracles. Of course, tiny was relative. From his current perspective, they were as tall as any tree. Crowley paused, his gaze roving over the tree in front of himself, following the strong, solid trunk up to the lush green foliage at the very top. He smiled. He was glad he’d switched to miracles to sustain the woods. He normally favoured human methods when it came to horticulture. But the miracles had allowed the woods to survive and remain tiny, even in his absence. And, after all, the plants weren’t the point of this place. They were just context.

Crowley heard a twig snap behind him. He turned quickly and broke into a wide grin, ‘Ms. Hedgehog! Fancy seeing you here.’

‘Crowley!’ Ms. Hedgehog called out in obvious delight as she stepped out from the trees, ‘it’s been far too long.’ Ms. Hedgehog was a small anthropomorphic Hedgehog. Well, small compared to humans. She looked just right in comparison to the wood around her. As usual, Ms. Hedgehog wore a simple cornflour blue dress and a little white apron. She was currently wringing her hands in her apron in a manner that reminded Crowley of a certain angel.

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Crowley said sheepishly.

‘That whole end-of-the-world thing you’d mentioned?’ Ms. Hedgehog said with a frown.

‘At first…’ Crowley coughed and blushed a brilliant shade of red. It clashed with his crimson hair.

‘Oh!’ Ms. Hedgehog said, throwing her arms into the air in excitement, ‘you told him! Your angel!’

Crowley bit his lower lip and nodded quickly.

‘And?’

Crowley scratched the back of his head coyly, ‘you were right?’

‘Of course, I was! You are the dearest, sweetest thing ever. Of course, he felt the same way,’ she shook her head, ‘well, no wonder you’ve been gone so long. I imagine you’ve been having quite a lot of sex.’

‘Alright, steady on,’ Crowley said with a laugh, ‘Anyway, how’s things been?’

‘Oh, we’ve been fine. The rabbits have had more children, of course. They’ve been having quite a lot of sex too I expect. Oh, and Toad is, well… you know old Toadie.’

Crowley snorted, ‘It wouldn’t be right if Toadie wasn’t up to trouble.’

‘Exactly,’ Ms. Hedgehog beamed, ‘It is good to have you back, Crowley. We’ve all missed you terribly.’

Crowley smiled.

But then a gust of wind rushed through the woods and a massive clap of thunder echoed through the sky, disturbing the peace. A loud booming voice cried out, ‘Crowley! Are you in here?’

Crowley’s eyes widened in horror. No. No, please no.

‘Crowley!’ the booming voice continued, ‘Oh my, what a dear sweet little village.’

Crowley grimaced. There was nothing else he could do. His secret was out. And he had to warn Aziraphale straight away before he accidentally squashed someone. Crowley sighed, and clicked his fingers to miraculously raise the volume of his voice, ‘Down here, angel. Shrink yourself down and join us.’

Aziraphale peered down and the sky was filled with Aziraphale’s massive face wearing a very confused frown. Aziraphale shook his head, clicked his fingers and a moment later he appeared next to Crowley, at exactly the correct relative height, ‘Crowley! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I didn’t even know you had this room. What the devil are you doing in this little model village?’

‘Oh, Crowley!’ Ms. Hedgehog cried, ‘Is that him? Is that your angel?’

Crowley cringed, ‘Yeah.’

Aziraphale turned to face Ms. Hedgehog, mouth falling open, ‘Oh my! Crowley, is that an- an- anthropomorphic Hedgehog?’

‘Yes?’ Crowley replied uncertainly.

‘Why?’ Aziraphale added with a frown.

‘I am Ms. Hedgehog, I thank you kindly. And I’m here for the same reason that you are. Someone created me,’ Ms. Hedgehog said curtly.

‘Oh, Crowley,’ Aziraphale sighed, hand to mouth, as he realised exactly what had happened.

‘I can explain!’ Crowley cried out.

‘No need, dear boy,’ Aziraphale answered with a quick shake of his head, ‘really there’s no need.’ His eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep, bracing breath. Then he turned to Ms. Hedgehog and said, ‘Good morning, Ms. Hedgehog. It is a delight to meet you. I apologise for my rudeness. You have me somewhat at a disadvantage. You see, while he evidently told you all about me, he didn’t tell me about you. Perhaps, you can give me a tour of your village and we can put that right?’

‘I should like that very much!’ Ms Hedgehog replied with a warm smile.

‘Very good,’ Aziraphale said as they began to walk down the path together.

‘You know my wife makes what I have on very good authority is your very favourite blueberry muffin,’ Ms. Hedgehog said, ‘I’m sure she’d be happy to whip up a batch.’

‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale cried, turning around to face a gaping Crowley, ‘so this is where you’ve been getting them from!’

‘Er…’ Crowley said, ‘er, yeah?’

Aziraphale shook his head and grinned, his eyes alight, ‘you cheeky thing.’

‘He’s the dearest, isn’t he?’ Ms. Hedgehog said, smiling at Crowley.

‘Oh yes,’ Aziraphale said softly, voice overflowing with affection.

Crowley just cringed, mortified.

Aziraphale and Ms. Hedgehog turned and continued to walk toward the village. But Aziraphale soon paused, turning back to face Crowley. He smiled, ‘are you coming, my dear?’

‘Right. Yeah,’ Crowley replied, chasing after them.

A village tour and a blueberry muffin picnic in the little woods later, and Crowley was left wondering if the mortification was worth realising just how much Aziraphale loved him. In fact, if the glint in Aziraphale’s eye meant anything then, perhaps, Aziraphale loved him just a little bit more after seeing little village. Crowley cringed. Probably worth it?


	17. A little help from my friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: That's not how you use...

Aziraphale hummed you himself as he carefully arranged his purchases on the coffee table. Then he stood back and tutted. Well, he thought, he’d certainly managed to purchase a variety. That was good wasn’t it? Surely, there’d be something here to tempt Crowley. He tutted again. And sighed. And twisted his hands together. Finally, he nodded. Yes, yes surely this would do the trick. And if it didn’t, well, at least it would be clear. Direct. Upfront. Aziraphale couldn’t imagine anything more upfront than what was currently adorning his coffee table.

The door opened with a loud creak and Aziraphale looked up, delighted, ‘Crowley! You’re here!’

Crowley shrugged as he wandered into the book shop, ‘yeah, well, you said you needed a hand or something. What’s up?’

Aziraphale gestured to the coffee table.

Crowley frowned and flopped down onto the couch, ‘what’s this then?’

‘What I need help with,’ Aziraphale said with a little wiggle, ‘with my ties to Heaven cut I find myself inclined to sample certain…er…delights, shall we say. But I have terribly limited experience…um…knowledge even…’

Crowley slipped off his sunglasses and threw them onto the couch.

As he met Crowley’s golden eyes Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. He continued on quickly, ‘and you, w-well, you’re a demon. So clearly you know everything there is to know about, well…’ He gestured to the coffee table again.

Crowley looked down at the coffee table, a frown twisting his features. Aziraphale waited with bated breath for Crowley’s response. But moments passed and none came. Crowley just kept staring at the coffee table, face twisted in a frown. Aziraphale’s stomach plummeted and he struggled for air he didn’t need. Oh, no. Oh, no. He felt like he was drowning. He swallowed hard, ‘Oh dear me, I’ve misstepped. How dreadfully awkward…’

Crowley quickly shook his head, ‘nah, ‘m happy to help I jus’ dunno why you think I know all about weird little rubber ducks,’ he said as he picked up a clitoral stimulation device that happened to be shaped like a yellow duck, ‘or whatever this is, a massager?’ he said gesturing to what the kind lady in the shop had called the Rolls Royce of vibrators, ‘or this weird egg thing,’ he added gesturing towards the Tenga egg, ‘What is all this stuff, angel?’ he added frowning at the strapless dildo.

‘Ah,’ Aziraphale shuffled from foot to foot, ‘you really don’t know? The lady at the shop assured me that they are all perfectly er… ordinary….nothing too um…exotic…or er…niche…’

Crowley picked up a bright pink butt plug and frowned at it, ‘what are you meant to do with this? Looks like a dummy for adults or somethin’

Aziraphale shook his head quickly, teeth biting into his lower lip, ‘oh, no. It doesn’t go in that particular orifice.’

‘Oh!’ Crowley’s eyes widened. He dropped the butt plug like it was on fire and jumped up from the couch, ‘oh shit, angel. Fuck. I dunno what they told you but it’s a prank or somethin’. They’re winding you up. Look,’ he said running his hands through his hair, ‘don’t be embarrassed. It’s jus’ me, yeah? But you’ve been sold a bunch of sex toys. That’s what all of this is for. Humans use them for sex.’

Aziraphale clasped his hands together and did his best to answer with dignity despite the warmth spreading across his cheeks,’I know perfectly well what they are, Crowley.’

Crowley blinked slowly. His eyes flicked to the table and then back to Aziraphale. He blinked again. ‘You know?’

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale said shuffling from foot to foot, ‘as I said, there are certain Earthly delights I have never sampled. But as I am now cut off from Heaven, I find myself quite free to do as I wish.’

‘Right,’ Crowley said slowly, licking his lips, ‘right. Yeah. And- and- that is- you said- you said you wanted…’ his voice trailed off.

‘Your help, yes,’ Aziraphale said, his face burning, ‘but clearly I misstepped. I apologise. Let’s not make this too awkward I…’

‘No!’ Crowley cut him off quickly, ‘no! I want to help. I can help. If- if you want.’

‘But you…’ Aziraphale gestured to the coffee table again.

Crowley mumbled something unintelligible.

‘I didn’t get that,’ Aziraphale said.

Crowley mumbled again.

Aziraphale sighed and clicked his fingers. Crowley’s voice rang out through the bookshop as his mumbled statement was miraculously repeated at volume, ‘I use my hands!’

‘Oh,’ Aziraphale nodded in understanding as Crowley blushed furiously.

‘You know I hate it when you do that,’ Crowley said petulantly.

‘Oh, I see,’ Aziraphale said with a sigh. He smiled, ‘but you don’t have to…’

‘I want to,’ Crowley said hoarsely, ‘I really, really want to. May have um… thought about it. I may have thought about it a lot, actually.’

Aziraphale beamed, ‘Oh, really? Good. Perfect.’

‘Just might need the instruction manuals,’ Crowley said looking back to the coffee table with a frown, ‘if this is your taste.’

‘Oh, no,’ Aziraphale said with a quick shake of his head, ‘forget about all that for now,’ he licked his lips and his gaze slid down Crowley’s body to his long fingers, ‘lets try it _your_ way.’


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pegging

‘See I put this end up myself,’ Crowley explained, holding it out for Aziraphale to see, ‘n then I fuck you with this. You don’t even have to manifest a cunt. I can fuck you up the arse. ‘S called pegging that bit.’

Aziraphale shook his head, eyes lighting up with delight, ‘terribly inventive the humans, aren’t they? So creative. Pegging. You have to admire them.’

‘They’re brilliant,’ Crowley said with a wide grin, ‘so what’d ya say? We could do it the other way around if you’d prefer. I mean I figured but you know me. Up for whatever you want.’

Aziraphale frowned and began to smooth out his trousers. ‘The thing is it all makes perfect sense for the humans. Brilliantly inventive,’ he wiggled excitedly. Then he frowned again, ‘but it doesn’t make a terrible amount of sense for us. I mean you could simply manifest a penis and fuck me with that.’

Crowley shrugged, ‘I could but, you know, in the spirit of trying everything…’

Aziraphale frowned again. He tried to imagine it. He really did. He shook his head and sighed. ‘You could just manifest a penis though.’

Crowley groaned.

‘You swap regularly all the time. At a moment’s notice as it were,’ Aziraphale clicked his fingers, ‘vulva!’ He clicked them again, ‘penis!’

‘I know,’ Crowley said with a sigh, ‘I know I do. But this’d be something else to try.’

Aziraphale frowned again. He shook his head, ‘just manifest a penis, dear boy.’

Crowley sighed. ‘Alright, alright.’ A bulge appeared in his trousers. He raised a single eyebrow, ‘happy?’

Aziraphale licked his lips as his gaze slipped down to the bulge, ‘Quite. Oh yes, I’m quite happy.’


	19. Fair Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: sauce

‘Ketchup, angel?’ Crowley offered the bottle from his position next to Aziraphale on the couch in the Bookshop.

Aziraphale grimaced, but took the bottle anyway, squeezing out a neat little dollop onto the white paper and dipping a chip in.

Crowley sighed, ‘what’s your problem?’

Aziraphale frowned tightly, ‘you’re not American.’

‘Not British either. And neither are you.’

‘Still, next you’ll be calling these fries,’ Aziraphale said, waving around a chip, ‘and then where would we be?’

Crowley snorted, ‘you’re out of date. Again. ‘ve heard plenty of people calling it ketchup,’ he pointed to the bottle, ‘look even says it on the bottle.’

Aziraphale sniffed with distaste and ate another chip.

Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘you just don’t like change,’ he said, taking a chip for himself, ‘anyway, could be worse.’

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, ‘oh?’

Crowley straightened up and deliberately broadened his drawl, ‘Crikey, mate, they love me Down Under.’

‘Stop that,’ Aziraphale said crossly.

‘Oh c’mon, mate,’ Crowley replied with a broad drawl, ‘fair suck of the sauce bottle.’

Aziraphale tutted, ‘right that’s it,’ he said unzipping Crowley’s fly, roughly tugging his trousers and pants down—a little miracle to assist— and squirting tomato sauce into his lap.

‘Aziraphale!’ Crowley cried out, ‘what the fuck are you…ngh…’ his speech dissolved into incomprehensible moans as Aziraphale proceeded to enthusiastically lap at the sauce, his tongue working his way around Crowley’s balls, slowly and steadily down his rapidly hardening shaft and swirling delightfully around the head of Crowley’s cock. Crowley gripped hard at the couch under him and shuddered as Aziraphale took Crowley’s erection into his mouth and worked it just the way Crowley liked.

‘Shit,’ Crowley moaned, pushing hard into Aziraphale’s mouth, fingers tangling in his soft white curls as his orgasm approached.

Aziraphale removed Crowley’s cock with a soft pop and Crowley whimpered.

‘What is it?’ Aziraphale said calmly.

Crowley keened.

‘What is it?’

‘Please, angel…’

‘What is it?’ Aziraphale repeated sternly.

‘Sauce! It’s tomato sauce!’

Aziraphale wrapped his mouth back around Crowley’s erection and took it in to the root, sucking hard and fast until Crowley came with a howl.

Crowley sat dishevelled and panting, trousers still down to his knees, as Aziraphale sat up primly beside him, wiping excess semen from his mouth with a serviette and returning to his chips, ‘yes, you are quite nice down under. Thank you for the fair suck, dear.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair suck of the sauce bottle means fair go/be reasonable


	20. Trip of a lifetime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: public transport

Heaven and Hell were enemies. Old enemies. Hereditary enemies. But the reality was, they’d once all been angels. The reality was, much of the basic infrastructure of the universe had been built long before there was war in Heaven. And so, as righteous and glorious as the ongoing battle between Heaven and Hell was, there was a degree to which everyone just had to be sensible about things. And one of the things everyone had to be sensible about was long-distance and inter-dimensional public transport.

Aziraphale nodded politely to the angel in the driver’s seat as he boarded the joint celestial/infernal bus to Andromeda galaxy. It was terribly reassuring how much it resembled an ordinary human bus. Due to his stationing on Earth, Aziraphale had not used more… ah… _traditional_ forms of transportation for a long time. A very long time. The human-like façade was comforting. But, Aziraphale reminded himself, it was a façade. Aziraphale’s hands twisted in his lap and he took several deep breaths to steady himself.

‘Ziraphale?’ a familiar voice cut through the anxiety.

‘Crowley?’ Aziraphale cried out, delighted, making room for the demon beside him, ‘what are you doing here?’

Crowley shrugged and took a seat, ‘they’re sending me on a little trip to the Andromeda galaxy. Quite out of the blue. Don’t really know what for yet.’

‘Me too!’ Aziraphale enthused, ‘how curious,’ he frowned, ‘I do wish we didn’t have to travel like this though.’

‘How long ‘S it been for you?’ Crowley asked curiously, head tilted.

‘Since before the Beginning,’ Aziraphale replied. He sighed, ‘and things were all so different then.’

Crowley snorted, ‘You’re not wrong.’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean…’ Aziraphale began but Crowley waved him away.

‘S alright, angel. Point is- makes riding a horse look fun, huh?’ Crowley said with a sideways grin.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and laughed, ‘Quite! I mean this looks like an ordinary bus but as we pull onto the inter-galactic ethereal highway, we’ll all dissolve into each…’ his eyes widened, ‘other…Oh!’ He looked across to Crowley. Crowley’s golden eyes were bulging with horror and a deep red blush was quickly spreading across his cheeks.

‘All aboard for Andromeda galaxy!’ The driver shouted loudly as the doors slid shut with a loud bang.

‘I’ll get the next bus,’ Crowley said in a rush, standing up.

Aziraphale nodded tightly, but the bus was already pulling out and Crowley was knocked back into his seat, falling against Aziraphale. As Crowley scrambled to pull himself up, Aziraphale’s eyes darted around the bus, looking for an escape and finding none. Instead he noticed for the first time the terrifying lack of any other passengers. There would be nothing to buffer the experience. As the passengers dissolved, they would… they would…

‘Fuck!’ Crowley cursed loudly, ‘angel,’ he said, desperately finding Aziraphale’s eyes, ‘angel, before everything d- before we…Ngh…I need to tell you that I…’ but he didn’t get any further. The bus slipped onto the highway and everything bled into one.

The bus driver sniffed loudly as she waited impatiently for Aziraphale and Crowley to exit.

Aziraphale, breathing heavily, paused at the doorway to fiddle with his bow tie and smooth out his jacket. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he took a great gulping breath before stepping carefully down the steps and onto Andromeda station. Crowley stumbled down the stairs behind him, crimson hair dishevelled wildly, shaking hand slipping sunglasses back into place.

The bus driver raised a single eyebrow at their appearance, ‘Nice journey?’

Aziraphale licked his lips. His eyes darted to Crowley’s and a little pink blush spread over his cheeks, ‘It was…’ he paused, ‘most illuminating. Thank you.’


	21. It’s all real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: IKEA

‘You work here, right?’ the customer said with a touch of panic.

‘Yes I do, how can I help you?’ John replied with a smile as he put the last frying pan onto the pile.

‘On thank God!’ the customer cried out.

John’s smile widened immediately, ‘lost huh? Happens all the time. You need to turn right after lighting and take the…’

‘No, no I’m not lost,’ the customer said, ‘but you’ve got to come quickly! It’s working!’

‘What’s working?’ John asked with a frown.

‘The televisions and the sound systems and the ovens and the stoves...’ the customer replied hysterically, ‘and the fridges and fruit bowls are filled with food—real food— and the wardrobes are packed with clothes. Everything is real!’

John ran after the customer, still not quite understanding. A quick dart through the familiar rabbit warren later he found himself face to face with two middle-aged gentlemen sitting comfortably in one of the display kitchens. Well, one of them was sitting. The one dressed all in black was slouching in a manner that John thought was, frankly, unflattering to the furniture. They seemed to be sharing a little feast. A very real feast.

John frowned.

‘You see!’ cried the customer, pointing at the gentlemen accusingly.

John did see. He took note of a bowl of real fruit, the television playing a James Bond movie in the background, and the smell of roast chicken wafting from the oven. He opened the fridge to find that, sure enough, it was stocked to the brim with real food.

‘Excuse me,’ John said, chewing at his bottom lip, ‘how- how- wait, did you do all this?’

‘All what?’ the one dressed in black drawled.

‘It’s all…’ John paused, barely comprehending it, ‘well, it’s _real_.’

Aziraphale frowned, his forehead creasing up. Crowley snorted in amusement.

‘All the displays,’ John continued, looking around him, ‘they all work, they’re all real!’

‘What?’ Aziraphale gasped looking across the table to Crowley with dawning horror. He whacked Crowley across his stomach and whispered, ‘it isn’t meant to be real, Crowley! Why didn’t you say?’

‘Ow!’ Crowley groaned melodramatically. He shrugged and waggled his head mockingly, ‘oops?’

Aziraphale tutted and Crowley laughed. ‘Well, how was I supposed to know, angel?’

Aziraphale tutted again, shaking his head. He clicked his fingers and straightened his bow-tie, ‘I think,’ he said, turning to John, ‘I think you’ll find that everything’s in order.’

John looked at the fruit bowl with plastic fruit, the display television with a static picture and the cardboard chicken in the oven. He even—just to be certain— opened the fridge. No food. He nodded. He turned to Aziraphale with a frown, ‘yeah, but wait, it was all…I’m sure it was…’

‘A minor illusion,’ Aziraphale said quickly cutting him off. ‘I’m a magician,’ he added brightly, ‘I’ll give you my card.’

Crowley snorted as Aziraphale produced a card from behind John’s ear. John walked away very impressed and talking about booking Mr Fell for his daughters birthday party.

‘He’s gonna be disappointed when he sees your show, angel,’ Crowley said as John walked away, ‘none of it’s _real_.’

‘Oh shut up.’


	22. A tall tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: summoning. 
> 
> This one follows on from the previous chapter The Rainbow Serpent and Rainbow Serpent was itself a fix-it of specific a scene in the book: the scene where Aziraphale is trying to find a receptive body close enough to Tadfield and he ends up in Australia.

**Sometime in the not too distant future…**

‘Tell us, Uncle John! Tell us, please…’ children cried out as one.

John Lingari laughed with delight at their enthusiasm and threw under couple of sticks on the fire. A few sparks flew, dancing up to the stars above.

John’s sister shook her head, ‘you’d better tell em. You’ve got em all riled up now.’

‘Yeah, make him tell us, Aunty May,’ the children chimed in.

‘Well, I reckon I can do a bit of yarnin’ about it,’ John said with a smile, ‘if you all cut the whinging and start listening.’

The children hushed instantly, clustering around John. 

John cleared his throat and began, ‘it was around the time when the whole world was going nuts. A ring of fire around London they said. Giant squid in the ocean. Fish falling like rain in Sydney. And bushfires raged across the country long before their season,’ he shook his head, ‘it was all wrong,’ he licked his lips and continued, ‘I was here, on country and, out of nowhere, he appeared. Used my own voice to speak, used my own brain to form thoughts,’ John paused dramatically and lent forward, ‘I knew him at once: it was Nyalgod’s wife! The wife of the rainbow serpent…’

‘Oh, deadly!’ one of the youngest kids cried out. The other children nodded in agreement, eyes wide, mouths hanging open.

John Lingari didn’t pay attention to the young children who lapped up the yarnin’ but to his niece Cathy—now a young woman at university— frowning skeptically at the very edge of the group.

‘What did he want, Uncle John?’ a young girl called out.

‘To find Nyalgod, of course,’ John replied.

‘What was he like?’ another kid asked in an awed rush.

‘Well, he spoke like a bloody pom, I can tell you that,’ John said with a laugh.

The kids sniggered.

‘But I reckon,’ John said, ‘if Aunty May here can shack up with a white fella…’

May rolled her eyes as she interrupted, ‘you leave Gary out of this. He’s a good man.’

John chuckled, ‘exactly. If Gary is one of our mob now, then I reckon Nyalgod can have his wife. Even if he does talk like he’s got a stick up his arse,’ he nodded, ‘And it’s no coincidence we got our treaty the very next year if you ask me. No coincidence at all.’

The treaty between the Aboriginal people and the Australian government had been a watershed historical moment. John remembered when he’d thought it would never happen. But somehow, after his meeting with Nyalgod’s wife, things started to change. John knew that wasn’t a coincidence.

‘Our people fought hard for a treaty,’ Cathy chimed in.

John nodded in agreement, ‘yeah, we did and the rainbow serpent was with us at every step.’

Cathy frowned. John looked at her carefully.

‘He’s with us now,’ John said softly, ‘he’s always with us.’

The fire hissed and crackled and with a loud snap an enormous red-bellied black snake appeared right in the very centre of it. The kids gasped and leapt back as one. John, May and Cathy stood still and sure. John rubbed his chin, curiously.

‘It’s alright,’ May snapped at the kids, ‘don’t act like you’ve never seen a snake before! Acting like a bunch of white fellas!’

The children sat back down with trepidation.

The snake lifted his great head, unbothered by the flames licking around him. He looked around the circle of people and hissed, ‘who ssssumoned me?’

‘You’re on Bininj land,’John answered loudly, ‘Kinwinjku nation. On behalf of elders past and present, welcome to country, Nyalgod.’

‘Oh.’ 

The serpent hissed. He slithered out of the fire towards John. Then he shook his head and, while his head remained black as night, the scales on his body transformed into a shimmering rainbow. He bowed his head at John respectfully, ‘it’ssss been awhile.’

John shrugged, ‘you’re never gone, Nyalgod. Did your wife find you?’

The rainbow serpent nodded, ‘that wasss you?’

John nodded.

‘Thanksssss.’

John’s face broke into a wide grin.

‘Does he really talk like a bloody pom with a stick up his arse?’ One of the kids called out.

The serpent turned to the child, slithered closer and looked her up and down. The child looked back with respect and surety. Now, there was a kid who knew where she stood. John’s heart burst with pride.

The serpent began to laugh, great big peels of uncontrollable laughter, serpentine tongue flicking wildly out of a mouth that was not built to laugh. Eventually the serpent’s laughter settled and he hissed, ‘yesss. Actsss like it too. But he’ssss alright, really.’

The serpent slithered back to John ‘Hasss the treaty made a difference?’

John nodded rubbing his chin thoughtfully, ‘yeah, I reckon it has.’

‘It definitely has,’ May chimed in, ‘thanks.’

The serpent looked to her and nodded, satisfied.

‘Knew that was you,’ John said with a smile.

‘Anything elsssse?’ the serpent asked head leaning to the side, eyes flicking between John and May, ‘you sssummoned me. Mussst have been sssomething your people needed.’

John’s eyes flicked to Cathy. Cathy was staring at the serpent with awe and respect. Now, there was a woman who knew where she stood. John looked to May and May grinned with pride.

‘Nah, mate,’ John replied with a shake of his head, ‘already done it, I reckon.’

The serpent’s golden eyes flicked to Cathy and back to John and May. He nodded in understanding. ‘I’ll be off then. Won’t leave it sssso long next time. I promissse.’

‘Bring the wife,’ May said, ‘we’ll have a proper yarn ‘n all.’

The serpent nodded. Maybe he would bring Aziraphale, show him another part of his life, a good part. He prepared to return, ‘Goodbye, Bininj people.’

John leaned forward and whispered, out of earshot of the children, ‘before you go…’

The serpent slithered closer.

John licked his lips and whispered, ‘Did you get your root?’

The serpent wiggled, scales rippling, rainbow rolling and John realised with some amusement that the rainbow serpent was embarrassed. ‘Yesss,’ the serpent said eventually, ‘thanksss for that too.’

John winked. ‘No worries, mate,’ he laughed, ‘no worries.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is named after Vincent Lingiari who led a walk-off at a cattle station that resulted in the first return of Aboriginal land to Aboriginal people. Cathy is named after Cathy Freeman, the first Aboriginal to win gold in an individual event at the Olympics. 
> 
> The rainbow serpent is a deity common to many Australian Aboriginal peoples with many names and varying myths.
> 
> Australian Aboriginal culture and mythos is borrowed respectfully with the intent of doing it greater justice than canon did.
> 
> Yarn- to talk, especially to reach understanding or share knowledge (Aboriginal English)  
> Pom- an English person  
> Whinge- to complain annoyingly  
> Deadly- cool (Aboriginal English)  
> Mob- your people (Aboriginal English)  
> Root- fuck  
> A tall tale- an implausible story, especially one that is deliberately so


	23. To Boldy Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alpha Centauri or Good Omens in Space

‘Captain,’ Spock interjected decisively. The matter was urgent and if it resulted in Dr McCoy being cut off mid-sentence, so much the better.

McCoy frowned but Jim immediately gave Spock his full and undivided attention, ‘What is it?’

‘There are two people in the nebula,’ Spock said.

‘People?’ Jim repeated with a frown. Spock could feel the eyes of everyone on the bridge.

‘What like humans?’ McCoy asked.

‘Affirmative,’ Spock replied, ‘they appear humanoid and without any form of spacesuit.’

McCoy shook his head in disbelief, ‘they’d be dead, Spock. Humans can’t just float about in the vacuum of space.’

Spock raised a single eyebrow, ‘I thank-you for your valuable medical opinion, nevertheless, they are there, and they are very much alive.’

Jim didn’t hesitate, ‘Scotty, get a lock on them and beam them on board at once. Spock, you’re with me.’

‘Aye, captain,’ Scotty answered through the comms system.

Jim had already left the bridge. He strode at a decisive pace and Spock briskly followed. As they turned into the corridor leading to the transporter room, Jim’s eyes flicked to Spock, ‘Theories?’

‘None,’ Spock replied, ‘Too little data to speculate.’

Jim nodded, ‘Further observations?’

‘They appeared to be in close physical proximity,’ Spock replied as they reached the door. It automatically opened.

‘Meaning?’ Jim asked.

‘Unknown,’ Spock replied as they stepped inside the room.

‘Just beaming them in now, Captain,’ Scotty said, skilled hands on the transporter machine as the bejewelled light condensed and formed into what appeared to be two male humanoids in very close proximity indeed. In fact, they were locked in a passionate and half-clothed embrace.

Jim, Spock and Scotty stood in stunned silence for a moment, a silence punctuated by the wanton groaning of the two lip-locked men.

‘Biology, Captain,’ Spock said, breaking the silence at last, ‘The close physical proximity is for reasons of biology.’

Jim laughed warmly, the tension eased, ‘Yes, Spock, I think we’ve all figured that out.’ He cleared his throat.

The two strangers sprung apart. Their clothing was in disarray and they clutched at the tops of their undone trousers. Their lips were red-raw from kissing. Clearly, they had been going at it for some time.

‘Oh, Good Lord,’ the one with the white-blonde hair and rather plumper physical form cried out. He turned immediately to his skinny red-haired partner—Spock noted the golden snake-like eyes—and snipped, ‘you didn’t bring them here, did you?’

The man with the crimson hair and amber eyes gestured dramatically, ‘and interrupt a good snog? Why would I do that? Have I ever done that?’

The one with the white-blonde hair seemed to accept this assertion. He tutted, ‘well, clearly _you_ were out time-wise. They’re travelling about in space.’

‘Why’s it my fault?’ the red head exclaimed.

‘Time is _your_ thing,’ the one with the white-blonde hair replied decisively, ‘You said you could handle it.’

The red head spluttered for a full ten seconds before muttering, ‘S connected to the whole space thing ‘S complicated. Have a go at you next time you cock up a book.’

The one with the white-blonde hair clicked his fingers and their appearances instantly became respectable. Respectable, but dressed by an historical museum. In fact, it looked like they’d taken their attire from two different Earth eras. The one with the white-blonde hair smoothed out his vest and adjusted his tartan bowtie. Then he smiled at Jim and Spock with an air of determined politeness, ‘I must apologise for our state. We thought ourselves quite alone. I am Aziraphale and this is Crowley.’

Jim smiled brightly, ‘I am Captain James Kirk. Welcome aboard the Enterprise. I think it is we who need to apologise, for interrupting you. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. My science officer here assures me that it is a perfectly natural biological function, don’t you Spock?’

It took all of Spock’s Vulcan training to resist the physiological response that threatened to burn across his face. He could feel his ears turn a light shade of green regardless. He reminded himself that it was imperceptible to the human eye. The one known as Crowley snorted in amusement. Perhaps he could perceive it. Unfortunate.

‘What are you doing in my nebula anyway?’ Crowley announced suddenly.

Spock raised a single eyebrow, ‘ _your_ nebula?’

Crowley snorted. ‘An artist owns their art, don’t they?’

‘Affirmative.’

‘Well, there you go,’ Crowley said with a shrug.

‘Are you suggesting that you _created_ this nebula?’ Spock asked in a tone bristling with skepticism.

‘Yep,’ Crowley replied with a loud pop at the end of the word.

‘This nebula is 278,987.77 Earth years old,’ Spock replied.

‘That is weirdly precise,’ Crowley replied with a derisive tone. He snorted, ‘Precise and as it turns out, wrong.’ He shrugged. ‘Made this one a bit before the Beginning, just before the old,’ he made a whistling noise as he pointed slowly down conveying the idea of something falling, ‘So it’s um…

‘Don’t forget your little miscalculation with time,’ Aziraphale jumped in.

‘Alright, alright,’ Crowley frowned, ‘Still ten thousand years tops.’

‘That,’ Spock replied with wide eyes and a shake of his head, ‘is quite inaccurate and furthermore, nonsensical.’

Crowley snorted.

‘This is hardly helpful,’ Aziraphale interrupted with a roll of his eyes.

‘I quite agree,’ Jim said but the warmth in his voice suggested that he was rather enjoying himself. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

‘Look, Aziraphale and Crowley, wasn’t it?’ Jim directed to Aziraphale, ‘We were only trying to help. Our scanners detected two humanoid life forms without spacesuits, and we were concerned for your wellbeing.’

‘That’s very kind of you I’m sure,’ Aziraphale replied with a sincere smile.

‘Not humans,’ Crowley answered, counting each point off on his fingers, ‘Don’t need spacesuits. Came here to be alone. S’fine, apart from the surprise cock-blocking.’

Jim burst into a fit of rich laughter.

‘Captain?’ Spock said, eyes flicking from the two strangers to Jim.

‘It’s an old Earth-expression. Doesn’t see much use anymore. It means…’ but Jim shook his head and waved the explanation away, ‘never mind, Spock.’

Jim sighed and looked to Aziraphale and Crowley, ‘I take it you’d like to be put back where you were?’

Aziraphale smiled, his whole face lighting up in a manner that strangely reminded Spock of Jim, ‘That would be absolutely tickety-boo. Thank-you for understanding.’

Crowley snorted. ‘Tickety-boo,’ he repeated mockingly. He rolled his eyes, ‘you’re ridiculous, angel.’

‘And you love me, you wily old serpent,’ Aziraphale replied, eyes dancing with delight, ‘So how ridiculous does that make you?’

Crowley grinned. ‘You got me.’

Jim beamed. He knew love when he saw it. ‘You heard them, Scotty,’ he said still smiling, ‘Please return our two guests so they can continue their…activities.’

‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ Scotty replied. He fired up the transporter and the two strange beings disappeared in a mass of sparkling light, Aziraphale waving and grinning with delight all the while. 

Jim, Spock and Scotty all stood and watched them go in silence.

‘Captain,’ Scotty said, as he prepared to leave the room and return to his other duties ‘you don’t suppose that was…well…’

Jim shrugged good naturedly, ‘who knows, Scotty. Who knows?’

‘If you were thinking anything other than a pair of lying fools with a penchant for Biblical monikers then answer is negative,’ Spock said. He tutted to himself, ‘ _quite_ inaccurate.’

‘Oh aye. You’re probably right, Spock. You’re probably right,’ Scotty replied, ‘But did you notice the tartan?’

Jim chuckled and Scotty left shaking his head.

Jim’s gaze flicked to Spock and lingered just a moment too long to be professional. ‘Care to come to my quarters and debrief, Spock?’

Spock quirked an eyebrow, ‘Do you mean in my capacity as science officer, Captain?’

Jim shrugged. He let his gaze wander down Spock’s body, making his intentions clear, ‘Well, it has raised a few matters of a _biological_ nature.’

Once again it took all of Spock’s Vulcan training to control the green heat. ‘As you wish, Captain.’


	24. An Exaggeration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: reports

‘I had a very interesting visit from Michael yesterday,’ Aziraphale announced suddenly over the restaurant table as his desert spoon hit the empty china plate. 

Crowley choked on his wine. ‘You were meant to tell me if they showed up! You were meant to tell me straight away if they showed up!’ He swallowed hard, leaned across the table, and whispered, ‘you alright?’ 

Aziraphale waved this away, ‘I’m quite fine. She only wanted information. How we survived…’

Crowley’s eyes bulged under his dark glasses, ‘you didn’t tell her…’

‘No!’ Aziraphale answered quickly cutting him off, ‘I’m not an idiot. No. She had a theory. She was just after confirmation. She is wondering if it can be replicated, I think. In a cleaner way I suppose. Wondering if she can bottle it.’

Crowley licked his lips, ‘Bottle it?’ 

‘Yes,’ Aziraphale answered, taking a sip of his wine, ‘do you know where she got her theory from, dear boy?’

‘Er.’

‘From you,’ Aziraphale supplied.

‘Me?’ Crowley spluttered, ‘but I haven’t talked to the wanker in- in...’

‘A long time, I know,’ Aziraphale took another sip of wine, ‘but she had all of your reports. All of yours and all of mine. And gosh didn’t mine make it all so believable, after all, the places and the times matched, didn’t they?’

Crowley swallowed hard. Reports. Fuck. No one read his reports. Crowley had discovered that early on. No one was meant to read his reports. The colour drained from his face. ‘It’s not my fault. Everyone exaggerates in their reports.’ 

‘Exaggerates?’ Aziraphale repeated, eyes widening, ‘interesting choice of word. Because to exaggerate means to embellish on something that actually happened. What exactly were you embellishing on, dear?’

Crowley choked and the colour on his face rapidly changed again as he blushed a bright red. ‘We- we- and I- I…’

‘I have a theory of my own you see,’ Aziraphale chimed in, ‘a little theory about your reports.’ 

‘Ngk.’

‘Quite imaginative too they were. Most creative indeed,’ Aziraphale continued, ‘They made for fascinating reading. According to your reports we got up to all manner of fadoodling over the years.’

‘Fadoodling?’ Crowley managed to splutter out, outrage at the word choice allowing him to temporarily claw his way out of mortification.

‘Well, whatever it’s called nowadays,’ Aziraphale said with a wave. ‘You see, Crowley, I can’t imagine why you’d spend time making all that up if you didn’t…’ he licked his lips and looked directly at Crowley. 

Crowley couldn’t help but notice the little glimmer in Aziraphale’s eye. He’d spent a long time learning to read Aziraphale and that little glimmer, that little glimmer meant hope. He licked his lips, ‘you aren’t angry then?’

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled, ‘No, Crowley. I’m not angry. Truth be told I have imagined a few things too, over the years, embellished upon a few memories.’ 

‘You have?’ Crowley choked out.

Aziraphale nodded, ‘I have,’ he smiled and added teasingly, ‘Of course I didn’t put it in my reports. Most indiscrete.’

‘Sorry, angel,’ Crowley said, eyes darting away. 

‘That’s quite alright. You’re going to make it up to me now,’ Aziraphale replied.

‘I am?’

‘I want to hear you say it,’ Aziraphale said. 

Crowley swallowed hard. ‘Say it?’

Aziraphale nodded and stared back, eyes wide, knowing that he could rely on Crowley to figure it out. 

Crowley swallowed hard, warm with the twin  
realisations that Aziraphale reciprocated and he really was a total bastard. Fucking perfect.

‘I- I- said I seduced you in the reports every time I thought about it,’ Crowley managed to get out, ‘I wrote down what I wanted to have happened.’ 

‘Details, dear,’ Aziraphale said, a little smile playing about his face, ‘the reports were so rich in detail. Don’t skip over them now. I have a theory to confirm.’

Crowley made a little mewling noise. Absolute bastard. He shifted in his seat. Damn. At some point in the conversation he’d spontaneously manifested a cock and it was already hard and leaking in his pants. His face burned. He licked his lips and tried again, ‘Every time we met up I- I- had a wank about it. I’d write down what I thought about when I… when I…fucked myself,’ he spluttered out, ‘happy?’

‘Very,’ Aziraphale said with a wide satisfied grin, ‘one last question, dear boy. Why? Not the masturbation. That’s obvious. Why write it all down?’

Crowley shuddered, ‘Made it seem real. No one reads my reports anyway. Meant I could, I dunno, pretend.’

Aziraphale nodded, ‘very good, dear boy, well done.’

Crowley shivered with pleasure and let out a low moan before he could stop himself. 

Aziraphale smiled and finished his wine in one gulp, ‘now, shall we go try some of your ideas? Our conversation seems to have gotten you… what’s the expression…in the mood?’ 

‘Yes, oh fuck yes,’ Crowley replied as he snapped his fingers and instantly teleported them back to the Bookshop.


	25. Demon dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: possession

It wasn’t like he’d ever done it deliberately. Or even been aware that that was what he was doing, really. Alright, so it had occurred to him, after the first couple of times. As a possibility. But he’d dismissed it. After all, it only happened when he was sleeping. He had no evidence that any of it was real. Aziraphale had certainly never said anything. Besides, Crowley had never heard of a demon possessing something like, dunno, a bunch of grapes.

He’d certainly never heard of a demon possessing a bunch of grapes as they were slowly but surely picked one by one and slid into the wet open mouth of an angel, the angel’s pink tongue wrapping lightly around each quivering globe in a warm caress as the angel’s soft moans of pleasure vibrated all around until finally, finally… the angel’s teeth bit down hard…grape bursting as the angel hungrily sucked out all the- all the- ah…ngh …all the juice…

Yeah, ah… yeah, he’d never heard of anything quite like- like that. So, yeah, dreams. Must be. And here’s the thing. You can enjoy your dreams. Definitely allowed to enjoy your dreams. Stuff you do in dreams, it doesn’t count. Not even if you like it. Sure, they were weird dreams. So it was probably weird for Crowley to enjoy them. But he’d never let that stop him. And it wasn’t like they were always about food. Nah. He wasn’t that kind of weird. Crowley could be a book or an animal or a piece of furniture or an Edwardian coat. Once Crowley even dreamed he was a shower of rain. Imagine that! Being great heavy droplets of rain pouring down upon Aziraphale, covering his body, dripping down his soft white skin, sliding under his clothes, reaching the most secret places of the angel, making Aziraphale damp with Crowley’s own- his own- ngh- his own n-need…ngk.

So, hm…. yeah, weird um weird dreams. But that’s all they were. Some kind of outlet or something. Nothing to worry about. At least that’s what Crowley had always figured until, dust settled after an Armageddon that wasn’t and love confessions well and truly declared, Crowley kissed Aziraphale…

Aziraphale moaned softly into the kiss. Crowley slipped his tongue into the soft, wet mouth, and oh… it was even better like this. So much better than his dreams. And Aziraphale kissed him back. And Crowley wrapped his arms around him and groaned. And it was obvious, oh so obvious by the hot and thick pressure on his thigh that Aziraphale wanted him too.

But then Aziraphale made a little whimpering noise and pulled away from the kiss. He chewed nervously on his freshly kissed bottom lip, cheeks flushed a delicate pink. Crowley’s heart beat hard in his chest.

‘Dear boy, I- I- want you to know, before we…’ Aziraphale swallowed and said in a rush, ‘I’m, that is, I’m not at all experienced.’

Crowley shrugged and shook his head, ‘S’alright, neither am I. Who else would I have done this stuff with?’

Aziraphale chuckled nervously. But he kept chewing on his bottom lip, ‘I- I- mean dear, I haven’t even, not even just…’ his eyes widened and Crowley caught the meaning, ‘they’d always made such a big deal about the eating, you see, I feared what they’d say if I ever…’ he cleared his throat.

‘Oh,’ Crowley said understanding, ‘you’ve never,’ he gestured at Aziraphale’s crotch.

Aziraphale shook his head.

‘So, all of this is gonna be new. Right,’ Crowley licked his lips, ‘S’fine. Take it slow.’ 

‘Not entirely,’ Aziraphale whispered eyes darting away, ‘I’ve had… experiences…’

‘Experiences?’ Crowley repeated.

Aziraphale looked back at Crowley and nodded.

‘You’re gonna have to explain that,’ Crowley said with arched eyebrow.

Aziraphale sighed, eyes darting away again. ‘It’s so difficult to explain. But- but- I suppose it comes upon me suddenly. The- the trigger can be anything,’ he giggled nervously, ‘Sometimes it’s a piece of fruit, or- or- a really comfortable chair or even getting caught in a shower of rain and somehow, somehow I think of you, it feels like you in some strange way and next thing I know I’m… well…’ Aziraphale shrugged sheepishly.

‘The next thing you know you’re?’

Aziraphale blushed a fierce red and nodded quickly.

‘Oh…’ Crowley’s mouth went quite dry as he connected the dots.

‘Please don’t judge me,’ Aziraphale said in a rush, ‘I know it isn’t normal. At all. To suddenly…um…’

‘Shit,’ Crowley muttered, ‘I thought I was dreaming.’

‘What?’ Aziraphale said softly, forehead creased in confusion.

Crowley smiled sheepishly, ‘um, well we’ll have to compare notes to- to be sure but I’m pretty sure you’re normal. Completely and utterly normal. But I, well, I might have a bit of a sleep possession issue?’

‘A sleep possession issue?’ Aziraphale repeated. ‘Oh! Oh I see! You mean you..?’

‘Yeah?’ Crowley said a light blush spreading over his cheeks.

‘Oh my,’ Aziraphale said with a laugh, ‘then this isn’t our first time after all.’

‘Not even close, angel. Not even close.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the rain thing was inspired by that story about Zeus.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Rainbow Serpent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24426523) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)
  * [[Podfic] Seek and ye shall find](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345171) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)
  * [[Podfic] Back Up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009281) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)
  * [[Podfic] Give it a toss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254717) by [Literarion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literarion/pseuds/Literarion)
  * [[Podfic] True Form](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260359) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)
  * [[Podfic] Wibbly Wobbly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28463619) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)
  * [[Podfic] Demon Dreaming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583822) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)




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